#my summer has such a complicated relationship with the eyes man

[will-the-psychic-type-elite92]

Ya boy woke up in the middle of the night so uhhhhhh

How's about he drops some Summer Stuff.

So what I need to preface with is!!! I write Summer in a pokemon discord server I'm in, and when replayed through GS back in/around September, I would pause at certain points to make a solo post, as my friends who hadn't played GS were excited to see me do it, even encouraging me to pick Summer as my protag in game. Below the cut are my three flashback solos. I had to stop after these because after that I couldn't really keep it objective due to ship bias and having a hard time writing without dialogue as I only had Summer and I obviously picked important story scenes so lmao on my part.

One day I may get enough courage to dump about my personal Summer. The biggest thing to note for the Solos is She's selectively mute and will only speak verbally if the situation calls for it, or she's like deadly serious. Otherwise she uses sign or a notebook and pen to communicate!

《☀ Summer: Memories, memories 1: 🎶 》

She'd been....content. The young girl pulling her along--Nema was her name, daughter to the Area Ranger, Rand-- she was energetic and had a spark in her eyes, one visible nearly immediately to Summer when she ran up to her, requesting help with getting one of the "UFOs" out of the water. That, along with her other requests, Summer took joy in doing. Playing along, she decided. She really didn't know how true the three requests thing was, but she couldn't find herself to care.

Besides, she couldn't let that fire burn out of control, nor could she allow Nema to look for her father alone. Really, she was extremely greatful she'd gone along with Nema, all things considered. The pokemon weren't dangerous, no. What she found herself most worried about looking back were the Pinchers there to block the way up to the Wireless Tower.

Now, she knows the extent of how reckless Nema could be, but also how much of a genius she is. While she couldn't doubt Nema's ability to get up to the Tower, shed be terrified to think what could have happened should things have gone awry.

However, one of the two or three the memories that sticks out the most of that day in particular was the conversation she'd had when she finally met with Rand.

The Ranger Union told him two rangers were coming. So, why was there only one? Now he wasn't harsh or angry in the slightest with his question, in fact she'd dare say he broached the topic rather gently for someone who she had just met.

However, something about the question....hit her. It hit her harder than she expected.

Probably because it just...cemented the fact Ben hadn't made it safely to land. Meaning she really had no clue what had happened to him.

In the few moments it took her to raise her hands and give her explanation, so, so many thoughts raced through her head. Had he gotten shot down to? Did they have him captive, tied up with ropes a smidgeon on the tight side? What if it had been worse?

Despite her racing thoughts, she raised her hands and took a deep breath.

I do not know. We had an encounter with the Pinchers in the sky. I had seen them trying to shoot down a pokemon, so I went to stop them. My partner came to assist me. He was going to be shot down, so I knocked him out of the way. I fell into....the ocean....

She had paused a moment, trying to recall. It had been...a blur.

The capture styler got disattached within the fall. I had to get it back. Then there was a strong current. I then awoke on D-O-L-C-E.

She took a deep breath a shook her head. From there, she recounted his she'd met Ukulele Pichu and Booker, before going to find Arley in Rasp Cavern, mentioning the monument being broken, and Raikou chasing the pinchers. Then whet she got to the point she met Nema, the young girl excitedly recounted from there.

Then, before long she had a new mission. Work with Rand, and free the Wireless Tower from the Pinchers

《☀ Summer: Memories, memories 1: END 🎶 》

《☀ Summer: Memories, memories 2: 🎶》

Raikou had been calmed down. Summer took a few deep breaths as she stared at the legendary beast, who stared back at her. After a moment, it stepped forward and roared loudly. What followed was a bright flash of light.

She heard the crackling of lightning as she stared unblinking, unable to move her hands to shield her eyes, at the light that now enveloped Raikou. She continued to hear the crackling as a shape came into view within the light. It looked…like an hourglass. Once the light subsided, her Styler beeped, which she barely managed to hear over the crackling in her ears, and slowly she lifted her arm, and barely managed to drag her gaze to her Styler.

"The Legendary Pokemon has shown you a shape. Please register the shape."

Slowly, she moved her finger over top her Styler. Start in the top right, making a backwards Z, then up in a diagonal line.

When her Styler beeped in satisfaction, her arm fell, and her gaze was drawn back to Raikou, who then left.

A hand on her shoulder brought her back to reality. The crackling died out as she heard Rand. He was trying to check on her, as she'd been staring off into space.

She blinked twice, and brought a hand to her head, before shaking it.

I am fine. Did you see it? The shape in the light?

///

He hadn't seen it. Had…. She seen it? Or was it really just a trick of the light? She didn't know. They made it down the Wireless Tower, where Leanne and Nema awaited their return.

A very brief conversation was interrupted when some pinchers were brought over and interrogated, at least until they pulled one over on the lot of them and made a mad dash away. At which point Summer and Rand gave chase.

Up until the Big Booker Bridge.

She heard him before she saw him.

Red Eyes.

She wasn't the only one to have that moment of recognition either. He knew who she was.

So, so many things wanted to fall out of her mouth. None of them related to the mission. Selfish as it was her only concern was if Ben was alright in this moment. Before she could raise her hands, Red Eyes expressed his shock that she had lived her fall.

And then Rand took the words from her: Where was Ben?

Summer stared at Red Eyes. A mixture of fear and worry in her eyes. She had every right to fear this man; he'd attacked and she went plummeting to protect Ben. The worry came from what he could possibly answer of what happened to Ben.

Would all her worst thoughts come to fruition? Or would he be okay…?

Then her world crashed.

He couldn't–no, wouldn't– tell her. All because she was a Ranger. Her fists clenched at her sides, and she shakily took deep breaths, trying to keep herself calm.

But, then he continued. One thing? He'd tell her one thing out of pity….? Fine. Whatever.

"He's Safe."

She nearly collapsed right then and there from the nearly overwhelming wave of relief that washed over her in that moment

She was so caught up in her own relief, she'd zone out the last bit of the conversation…mostly. She heard what was being said back and forth; the joke about the rope, that Ben put up a fight, even that he was being treated with some form of respect.

She only really came back to reality when she heard the Voltorbs dropped, and she moved back right before they exploded, leaving the bridge unpassable.

For now, with the knowledge that Ben was safe, she returned to Rand's house with him to think of a new plan to progress.

《☀ Summer: Memories, memories 2: END 🎶 》

《☀ Summer: Memories, memories 3: 🎶 》

Blue Eyes had been captured in the basement of the old mansion with the help of Pichu. Now she was aboard the Union, and Summer had to give Rand a report, and then give a written report to Murph.

Once the Report had been handed over, the next course of action was going to be decided. However, before plans could be made, Red Eyes showed up, expressing his surprise that they'd managed to capture Blue Eyes.

However, he needed her back, and so he proposed a swap.

Blue Eyes for Ben.

//

When she heard that sentence, she felt so many emotions. Rage that Ben was being used as a bargaining chip, but also hope. Hope and relief that she'd get to see her partner again. Relief that he'd be safe.

Would there be any repercussions for this course of action? She frankly didn't care. What she cared about was getting Ben back. She clenched her fists as she watched Red Eyes fly away, and then she made direct eye contact with Murph.

"Give me Blue Eyes."

Really, she was surprised at how easily Murph was swayed, really he didn't need to be swayed it seemed, he went to get Blue Eyes, and so Summer and Blue Eyes were off to the Daybreak Ruins.

Summer would get Ben back safely today, or she'd raise all hell until she did. Consequences be damned.

//

With Blue Eyes in tow, Summer made her way to the last room of the Daybreak Ruins. Along the way Summer had been stopped countless times by pinchers under Blue Eyes's command, doing all they could to get their leader back without exchanging their captive, however, Summer did push through them.

And at the end of the Ruins…. There was no Red Eyes in sight.

However, a monument was there, and when Blue Eyes went to investigate, a loud roar caused both Summer and Blue Eyes to step back and stare as Entei came down, breaking a rock on it's landing.

Quickly, Summer took to capturing it to calm it down.

Entei had stared her down then roared, and Summer could hear the roar and crackling of a blazing fire as a bright light engulfed Entei. Within that light, she saw Entei's emblem, and just like with Raikou, her Styler beeped.

"Please register the sign in your styler!"

Slowly, she brought her arm up, and over the top of her Styler, she made a straight line down, then crossed like an upside down, closed four, and continued the line over to mirror what she'd just drawn.

As the light faded, so to did the crackling and roaring of a fire. As she blinked a few times, she brought her hand to her her head and shook her head as Blue Eyes grabbed her attention and thanked her for saving her from the situation.

That's when she heard Z.Z. Flyers overhead and stepped back.

Red Eyes was here.

And she could have sworn her heart forgot how to beat for a few moments as she saw Ben. He really was okay. He was okay. She hadn't completely failed in protecting her partner.

Before she could properly respond to Ben. Red Eyes, Blue Eyes and the other pinchers were leaving.

And….of course Red Eyes left the two of them a goodbye present. Electrodes that go boom.

She pushed Ben down, and grabbed pichu and held the mouse to her chest as she threw her arm up to protect her head from the explosions.

She looked around after the ringing in her ears stopped. They were stuck. But that wasn't important.

She instead turned her attention to Ben, who thanked her for her help and mentioned how relieved he was when he'd heard she had been safe.

It was the two of them, the way it was supposed to be from the start.

Now, Summer knew she could handle whatever the future of this mission held for her, now that she had her partner back.

《☀ Summer: Memories, memories 3: 🎶 》

#pokemon ranger guardian signs #long post #my summer has such a complicated relationship with the eyes man #i dont talk about it much but she has varying degrees of anxiety with each of them #but she's also convinced that they're good people at heart especially if they try to change #one of these days i should try to get over my anxiety that ranger Tumblr will come after me and actually dump about my summer shes my blorbo #i love writing her so much #I'm going back to sleep now loves you all /platonic #pokemon ranger summer #guardian signs

[blindmagdalena]

The Athenaeum Portrait

18+ 4.7k homelander x f!reader. established relationship, first time having sex, reader has a complicated relationship with sex, abuse of superpowers for cunnilingus, overstimulation, penetrative sex, lite sublander, praise kink, slight coercion, unhealthy dynamics, implied codependency, implied verbal abuse. just covering my bases here.

For every moment of love that is warm bliss on a summer afternoon, it is also an exercise in stumbling wildly in the dark. Never has this been more true in the case of Homelander, a man whose broken edges and unfinished seams have hardened into hazards that threaten to ensnare and maim anyone who steps too close.

You wouldn't have him any other way.

AO3 link. inspired by this anonymous prompt. thank you! 🖤

Homelander did not enter your life so much as he bull-rushed into it, a living whirlwind that uprooted you and hurled you into a familiar yet strange new world as unceremoniously as the tornado that took Dorothy to Oz. 

Vought Tower sparkles just as vibrant as the Emerald City, and provides no less surreal of a backdrop to your new life. Homelander's penthouse is a bizarre caricature of personhood, loaded with hundreds of years of American history. It would ring false, just another aspect of his brand, if not for the fact he can—and often does—regale you with a laundry list of historical facts on any piece in the collection.

This is how you find out that Gilbert Stuart is one of his favorite painters. When you ask Homelander why that is, he shrugs. "He painted over a thousand portraits, and he's most famous for the one he didn't finish. Ironic, huh?"

The Athenaeum Portrait, it's called. An unfinished portrait of George Washington that was replicated and sold by Stuart over a hundred times before his death.

The original was never completed.

The more time you spend in proximity to him, the more you start to understand why the piece resonates with him. You see replicas of him sold throughout the world on a daily basis, his face synonymous with Vought’s branding. There is a completeness to the commercial image of Homelander, America’s wholesome hero, but behind closed doors, you see his frayed and unfinished edges.

You feel his desperation for someone who will complete him in the way he touches you. He takes hold of your hands and brings them to the places where he is sketched at best, a ready and yielding canvas for your fingers. He likes when you stroke his hair, and sometimes touching his face turns his eyes glassy. There is a woundedness to the way he seeks your love, like he’s never entirely sure whether to expect the carrot or the stick.

You’ve never raised the stick to him, but it’s clear that those who came before you certainly did. It’s difficult to imagine that a man as powerful as him has been hurt like this, but he is a painfully obvious man at times, wearing his emotions like the scars his impervious body will never show.

When you lie down to read on the couch, he’s drawn to you like a magnet. He has no problem making space for himself within your bubble, sprawling on top of you, snaking his arms around your middle, his head settled on your sternum. You smile to yourself and rest your book on the top of his head as you read.

He gives a small grunt of complaint, but you’re fairly certain he’s smiling, too.

For every night of domestic bliss, so too are there sudden perils. Unexplained nights of absence, wild mood swings, fits of paranoia. He fights as many battles in his own mind as he does on the city streets and on foreign soil, a living weapon used to the fullest extent by Vought and the American government.

It feels like you lose him temporarily, like he becomes someone else. He paces around you like a caged tiger with his teeth bared, daring you to give him a reason to bite. You never do, and he never does, but sometimes you worry just how close of a call it was.

Occasionally he comes to you spattered in muck and bloody viscera. On these nights, he can’t seem to comprehend your presence, your gentleness, your love. It’s as if these concepts ring false in the wake of everything he has been made to endure. It’s suspicious to him that you would love something so repulsive, so opposite of everything Vought has polished his image into being.

He screams at you for this, takes you by the shoulders and demands you explain what he cannot understand, but you can’t. You can’t explain something that you don’t always understand.

Your relationship with Homelander is a delicious, precarious thing. Like a perfectly ripe peach, its closeness to something bruised and rotten makes it all the sweeter.

When things are good, they’re very good. He’s sweet, a romantic who learned everything he knows about romance from jewelry ads and Valentine’s Day specials. He brings you roses on random days of the week and adores showering you in gifts, especially the kind you wear. He tends to gravitate towards soft, velvety fabrics for your clothes because he likes the feel of them. He buys you perfumes that smell like vanilla and pink pepper. He likes fresh, warm scents. Nothing too floral or artificial.

Most importantly, he likes you. There’s rarely a day that the two of you don’t make each other laugh. His sense of humor is strange, but in the same way that yours is. Sometimes it feels like you’re two aliens creating a brand new language that only the two of you will ever know. The more time you spend together, the less the people outside of your relationship seem to understand you.

Not that it matters much. You spend the majority of your time with him these days, consumed by the excitement of this thrilling new thing the two of you share. Homelander is profoundly tactile, always needing to feel or touch you in some way. He loves to kiss you, content to make out languidly with you until your lips start to chap.

You’ve learned to keep lip balm on hand at all times.

Inevitably though, his hunger for intimacy outgrows quaint touches and kisses. You’re cuddled up together on his couch, only half paying attention to the movie playing. Homelander is nuzzling at your neck, pressing warm, wet kisses to it while his gloved hand slips beneath your shirt, fondling your breast through your bra. There’s something endearingly innocent about it, like a fumbling teenager piloting the body of a man in his forties.

Sex is nice enough. You have nothing against the act, but you’ve never felt as though you get as much out of it as the partners you’ve had in the past. Homelander’s touch feels good to you because it’s his, and because you know he wants to make you feel good in his enjoyment of you. You reciprocate by pushing your fingers into his hair, nails scraping along his scalp, eliciting a sweet, rumbling moan from him against your neck.

“Want you,” he mumbles fervently against your skin, his need so palpable it gives you goosebumps. “Can I have you?”

You knew this was coming. It’s not that you don’t want to fuck him, it’s that he’s not the only one whose portrait feels incomplete. You’re a fully grown adult, and never in your life have you managed to pleasure yourself to completion. In your youth, you’d just faked it for partners once you’d had your fill. With Homelander, you’re not even sure that would work. You’re not sure you would want it to.

He’s got a thing about lies, even little white ones.

You swallow and softly say, “Yes.” Ultimately, you do want him to have you. You just hope that what he gets doesn’t disappoint him.

He smiles into the crook of your neck, withdrawing his hand from beneath your shirt. He kisses you as he gathers you effortlessly up into his arms, carrying you to his bedroom. His strength is another aspect of why sex has made you nervous: the internet is full of horror stories of accidental sexual mutilation occurring between humans and supes. 

However, Homelander seems hyper aware of your fragility versus his power. He’s never harmed you. It seems to come naturally to him after years and years of navigating a world not made to withstand him. In the same way you’re capable of handling an egg without shattering it, he has learned how to hold you.

He lays you down on the bed, and then begins the ritual of shedding his signature suit, starting with his belt. You recline, content to watch him, but your gaze seems to make him uncharacteristically self conscious. You’ve never seen him without his suit before, another little quirk that you’ve largely just accepted to this point.

“Aren’t you gonna…” He gestures vaguely to you, expecting you to undress as well.

“Just enjoying the show,” you say coyly, attempting to lighten up a bit of the tension in his expression.

It doesn’t work. The furrow of his brows deepens slightly. “Ah, well. Y’know, the suit, they uh, pad it up some, so don’t–it’s different,” he says, fumbling over his words.

Your expression softens. “I know. It’s okay. I’m excited to see you,” you say, sitting up. In solidarity, you pull your shirt off first, and then wiggle out of your pants, kicking them off the bed. Homelander smiles at this, and works his pants off the rest of the way, kicking off his boots as well, leaving behind just a pair of dark red briefs. You sit up on your knees to help him with the fastenings of his suit top, which he seems to be the most apprehensive about.

To distract him from it, you kiss him. He melts eagerly into the press of your lips, slipping his tongue between yours with that same hunger to taste, to feel, to have. He’s bolder now that you’re no longer playing the part of spectator, shrugging his top from his shoulders and letting it fall with a surprisingly heavy thud to the floor. His ungloved hands skim up your sides, warm and positively thrumming with excitement.

You explore him as well, mapping out the slopes of his body that have previously been hidden from you. He’s leaner, more manageable than the ridiculous bulk of the suit. Part of you had always assumed there was a level of exaggeration in the chiseled, over the top musculature of the suit, but his build is still more slender than you expected. Regardless, it does nothing to detract from his raw strength as he catches you by the backs of your thighs and flips you onto your back, startling out a giddy bark of laughter from you.

He grins down at you, descending to catch you in another slow, consuming kiss, making space for himself between your legs. His lips trail from yours to the corner of your mouth, your jaw, your neck. He turns his head to messily suck two fingers into his mouth, and then slips his hand down the front of your underwear. He finds your clit with surprising precision–someone definitely taught him that–and begins to rub slow figure-eights over it, as gentle as he is deft. It does feel good, so you close your eyes and try to simply enjoy it for what it is, for the touch and warmth and intimacy of it all.

It doesn’t matter if you don’t come. This is still nice. You can feel his desire for you in the heat of his body, in the hot huffs of his breath wafting across your skin between kisses. He eventually slips a single finger inside you, patiently working you open. You drag your nails up his back and into his hair, breathing deeply, willing your mind to pause and let you experience this pleasantry in the same way you would a hot bath or a nice massage.

However, no matter how you try, the looming matter of expectation weighs heavily on your mind. You’ve never been comfortable with the attention being solely on your pleasure: it feels like dangling a treat in front of someone on a treadmill. They’re running for something they’ll never reach.

“Hey,” Homelander calls quietly, yanking you from your mental downward spiral. You see him above you, no longer tucked against you, working your skin with his lips and teeth. His brows are slightly furrowed. “You’re quiet. Am I doing something wrong?”

“No,” you exhale, the question immediately putting a wash of guilt through you. “No, not at all, feels good. I’m just really in my head right now,” you admit, cupping either side of his face. “You’re doing great, I’m ready. I want you inside me,” you tell him in a breathless flurry, pulling him down into a kiss. 

He does relax at that, sinking in against you for a moment before lifting himself back up. He shucks his underwear down and then pulls yours off as well, lifting both of your legs over his shoulder as he slips the panties completely off of you. While he does that, you unclasp and toss your bra aside. He turns his head to kiss the side of your leg before he lowers them both back down around his waist, lowering himself back down atop you.

The thick head of his cock presses wetly to your cunt, sliding up and down, spreading his slick and yours. You can already feel his excitement in the tension of his body, his shoulders drawn tight beneath your hands. You knead them, rolling your palms against steel-woven muscle. “That’s it,” you encourage, working to relax the both of you. “Nice and slow, mmm… Fuck, you’re big,” you say, biting your lip as he spreads you around the girth of his cock.

“You’re tight,” he moans in response, already sounding frayed. He moves his hips in slow, slightly jerky motions–clearly holding back for your comfort–until he finally bottoms out, keening so sweetly in your ear you can’t help but stroke his hair, hushing him.

“Good, good, feel so good in me,” you coo, the words a familiar script. He shudders for the praise, kissing down your chest, mouthing hungrily at your breast, the same he’d been fondling earlier. His mouth is hot and wet, perfectly pleasant as he sucks at your nipple, moaning into your skin. You cradle his head in both hands, adjusting to the onslaught of sensation. 

It’s been awhile since anyone fucked you. The feel of it is just as alien as you remember, but you’re distracted by the persistent swirl of his tongue alternating with the pull of his lips as he lavishes attention on one breast, and then the other. With his bare skin against yours, you’re more aware than ever of the superhuman frequency of his body, how he seems to literally vibrate with restraint and eagerness in equal measure. It’s like there is a line of semi trucks driving by you, the bed itself buzzing with it.

“You’re amazing,” you marvel quietly, tightening your legs on either side of him to feel that preternatural hum against even more of your skin, tingling your inner thighs. “You feel amazing.”

He grunts out a needy, strained noise at that, followed by a jagged thrust deep into you. To your surprise, you realize then that he’s coming apart, dull nails biting crescent marks into your skin, clutching you as tightly as he dare allow himself. You thought that maybe his powers would give him superhuman stamina as well, that he might fuck you raw before he came, but if the shaky cadence of his thrusts are any indication, he’s already holding himself back.

“I can feel how bad you wanna come,” you murmur, carding your fingers through his hair. “Mm? You can, you can come in me,” you say, feeling his whole body shiver from your words. You clench, tightening up around his cock so suddenly that it makes him gasp.

“Fffuck, fuck, oh god, y’can’t–fucking Christ, you–mmm, fuck!” He rasps, choking on his own breath as he comes, burying his face between your breasts at the same time he slams in deep, fading into tight, erotic little whimpers as he loses himself to the rhythmic clench of your cunt. You do it purposefully, milking him of his orgasm, enamored with how thoroughly you’ve reduced a demigod to these simpering noises. The flood of come is hot inside you, already dripping out where your bodies are connected.

All that, and he still never lost control. You doubt his fingerprints will even bruise, though you find a part of yourself wishing they would. 

Homelander comes down gradually from his high, limp against you, breathing shallowly against your skin. He looks dazed, eyes only half open. It’s cute, which isn’t a word you necessarily would have ever thought to associate with The Homelander before you started dating him. When he looks up at you, you smile, already more satisfied than you’ve been with sex in your life.

“That was playing dirty,” he tells you, voice a touch fried.

“I just wanted to make you feel good,” you respond simply, watching as he nuzzles into your hand.

He rumbles out a low hum, kissing your palm. “Which means it’s my turn to make you feel good,” he says, moving to slide out of your hands. You stop him, taking hold of his arm.

“You don’t need to,” you assure him, tugging gently to lure him back up. “Really. That felt incredible.”

He frowns, looking every bit like a confused puppy. “But you didn’t come.”

“I know,” you say, that ball of tightness coiling back up in your gut. “It’s okay.”

He exhales an incredulous little scoff. “What kind of boyfriend d’you take me for? I’m gonna make you come,” he says, shrugging off your hand as he moves down your body, sliding out of you.

“Homelander,” you implore, reaching out for him. “Really, it’s okay, you don’t need to–”

“What, you don’t think I can?” He asks. You can see the challenge in his eyes, but you also recognize the potential of a stinging wound to his ego in those words.

You sigh, folding your arm over your eyes as you lay your head back. “It’s not that I don’t think you specifically can, I’m… Eugh.” You take a deep breath. “It’s not something that I do. I can’t. I’ve never been able to,” you say to the darkness of your arm, fingers rolling apprehensively. “And I don’t want you to take this as some kind of challenge, and then be upset when it doesn’t happen,” you say, speaking from very specific experience.

The space between you is silent for long enough that your curiosity beats out your apprehension, and you lower your arm. Homelander stares at you from between your legs, expression pinched, eyes flickering slightly, as if he’s solving the world’s most complicated puzzle in his brain. His eyes narrow softly, his bewilderment showing.

“Like… You haven’t come… Ever?”

“Ever,” you confirm. “It’s not that I haven’t tried, there’s just something broken.”

He processes that a moment longer. “But all of this still felt good, at least… Yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course it did, I liked it. You really do feel amazing,” you assure him, lest he think you were lying with what you said earlier. “It just never finishes for me. That’s all.”

“Alright,” he says, the gears in his brain clearly turning. “So. Sure, no crossing the finish line, but I can still, y’know. Take you for a cruise? A little joyride?” He asks, making you laugh softly.

He really is cute. Sweeter than one might expect, too.

“A joyride?” You echo with a quirk of your brow, smiling.

He smiles, too. “Yeah. No destination, just a little drive.”

“I can do a little drive,” you say, feeling that knot of tension in your gut begin to untangle itself.

“Good,” he purrs, shouldering down between your legs. “Gimme that pillow,” he says, which you promptly do. He slides it under your ass, adjusting your hips until the angle is just right. He smooths his hands up and down the outsides of your thighs, glancing up at you. “Now, you just sit back and relax. Close your eyes, and imagine some smooth jazz.”

“I hate jazz,” you laugh.

He laughs as well, breath rolling over your wet pussy in hot waves. “Well, fuck, imagine something you do like.”

Relaxing back against the bed, you exhale a deep breath, closing your eyes. The first wet, hot slide of his tongue makes you jump a little. He responds by gripping your thighs and pinning you still, which does admittedly run a little thrill up your spine. You test his grip by pushing against it, and when that fails, pulling away, but neither grant you any leeway.

“Squirming already?” He asks between drags of his tongue.

“I like feeling your strength,” you say through a pleased little smile.

He gives an intrigued hum at that and spreads your legs wider, forcing them down against the bed. To even your surprise, that pushes a small, thin noise out of you. Encouraged, he presses his tongue inside, lapping up the mess he made inside you. It feels fine enough, but after a bit of his tongue pushing in and out of you, you give his hair a little tug. “Clit,” you say simply, a command he happily obliges, drawing back up to suck your clit between his lips.

Without the looming pressure to achieve some kind of euphoric release at the end, you find yourself more capable of simply enjoying this for what it is. Homelander is good at this, but it’s really his persistence that elevates the experience. At no point do you feel him begin to waver or slow, or shift and breathe in impatience. He’s relentlessly consistent, swirling his tongue and lapping at you like he’s starved for the taste.

You sigh, idly scratching his scalp as you toy with his hair. “Mmm, that feels good,” you say, more aware of the effect your praises have on him. He makes an appreciative noise, nuzzling into your cunt. One odd thing is that your clit is starting to ache in a way you’re unfamiliar with. You shift back a touch, but Homelander pulls you right back in.

“Greedy,” you accuse, which draws a low laugh from him, the rumble of it making you shiver a little. You must be growing oversensitized. You’ve lost track of how long he’s been at this.

He pulls back, and the cool air almost stings for the loss of his hot mouth, but that ache was beginning to grow uncomfortable anyways. You’re just about to thank him for his service when a whole new sensation steals the words right off your tongue. You don’t even know how to describe it: hot, pressure, but weightless. Your whole body jerks, but Homelander keeps you still, forces you to endure whatever the fuck it is he’s doing now.

“Wh-what the fuck is that?” Watching him, comprehension dawns; he’s blowing on your clit, lips pursed, forcing out a concentrated stream of warm, almost hot air that has your thighs quivering in his grasp. “Oh fuck,” you gasp, equal parts bewildered and overwhelmed. You try to close your knees, but once again, his hold is completely unrelenting, keeping them spread wide. Immediately that same ache is skyrocketing back up, spreading tightness low in your belly.

“Hold on,” you groan, gripping his hair tighter. You expect it to end before too long, for him to at least need to inhale, but beyond all logic and reason, he just keeps going. The heat of it is surreal, the weightless pressure of it constant. Your toes curl, heels digging into the bed while every muscle in your body starts to lock up.

Homelander’s gaze flickers up to meet yours, nothing pure wicked delight in his eyes. Just as suddenly, he descends upon you, tongue feeling hotter and wetter than ever as he dotes on your clit with it, focusing it with alarming precision. The abrupt change in sensation makes you thrash, stumbling over a stream of nonsense as you pull at his hair, that aching tightness now so prominent that you can hardly take in a breath.

“That’s enough, that’s–fuck, Homelander, it’s too much, it’s too much, s-stop, s–” your pleas erupt into a gasp because he’s focusing that stream of air right back on you again, the feel of it so surreal, so indescribable that your brain can hardly function around it. Your eyes roll back, you writhe, but he’s so much stronger than you’d ever really wrapped your mind around. He’s entirely unyielding in a way he’s never felt in your arms, against your body on the couch. He’s more inhuman than he’s ever been, and it’s driving you wild. 

Tears gather in your eyes. This  assault of sensation walks the knife’s edge of pain, but never quite falls over it. Your whole body is throbbing, and you feel like you’re going to fucking explode. He twists that knife by taking you again with his tongue, swirling and slick in contrast to the dry pressure of his breath.

“H-Homelander, Homelander, please, I’m–I’m–fuck!”

The world turns white, and suddenly you can’t breathe. You hear yourself make a strained noise you’ve never heard before, but it might as well not even be you. You’re somewhere outside of your own body, floating in a torrent of indescribable sensory input that is so alien to you, you don’t even feel real anymore. Homelander isn’t holding you still anymore, but you can still feel him slowly lapping at your throbbing clit, watching you through foggy eyes as he licks you through your first orgasm, no doubt tasting and smelling the endorphins that flood your body.

Every single taut muscle in your body snaps like the strings of a marionette, leaving you to collapse limply on the bed, panting through it as your soul gradually descends back down into your body. Blissfully, Homelander ceases his torment and joins you, laying sideways with his head propped up in his palm while his other hand rests on your hip, thumb rubbing soothing circles. 

“Oh my God,” you whisper eventually.

“Please, you can still call me Homelander,” he says, sounding just as smug as one would expect him to be after such an accomplishment. If you had any power whatsoever left in your lifeless arm, you’d smack him. However, he quickly makes up for it by drawing you gently into his arms, kissing your forehead. 

“I can’t believe you did that,” you say, more malleable than ever as he adjusts you both beneath the blankets. “I thought I was going to die.” It’s only a slight hyperbole.

Homelander laughs softly, beaming at you with pink cheeks and a sly, delighted little smile. “See? Nothing’s broken,” he murmurs at your ear, catching you off guard. That had been such an offhand remark, you didn’t expect to hear it come back around.

“What if I hadn’t? What if all that, and nothing happened?” You ask, adjusting slightly while he entangles his limbs with yours, bodies slotting together like jigsaw pieces. You’re both jagged in all the right ways, fitting nicely together.

He gives a small shrug, stroking his knuckles up and down your spine. “Still would’a been a hell of a ride. Not everything has to be finished to be good.”

Slowly, you smile. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

Loving Homelander isn’t always easy or good. There are times when he makes it hard, and there are times when you make it hard, but if there’s one thing you’ve learned in this lifetime, nothing worth doing is ever easy. Love may start as an incidental thing, a passion that ignites as readily as tinder, but the upkeep of it is more like pottery. It’s messy, and even once you get the shape of it right, you don’t always know how it will react to the heat necessary to give it solid form. It can be broken, it can be fixed, it can even be remade, but never is one the same as the last.

Still, even when it hurts, when it’s frustrating, when it doesn’t turn out the way you wanted it to, the euphoria of creating something so beautiful keeps you coming back to it. When the same love that burns you can also warm you against the cold, coat your throat like honey, and fill your night sky with stars to guide your way in darkness, it becomes impossible to let go of.

To love something is to heal it. Everything that is loved is beautiful, even things that are unsightly, unfinished, unappealing. Even things that are broken.

Finally, you think you understand why Stuart never finished his original painting.

He loved it precisely as it was.

#homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander fanfiction #homelander #my writing #smut #this fic. idk what happened here this is NOT what i expected to write lol #fun fact: the reason that the athenaeum portrait was never finished was because martha washington wanted it for herself when it was done #and stuart loved it so much he didn't want to part with it #this has been homelander's history corner

[junggunz]

own it | 🔞

summary: just some quick pwp with your favorite hoochie daddies cw: fem!bodied reader | smut | established relationship | taesoo: outdoor sex, breeding | corrupt cop!jichang: power imbalance, orgasm denial, semi public sex | husband!dg: overstimulation | p in v | all characters featured are 18+ wc: 4.4k total, ~1.3k each (??? tbh taesoo's is probably the longest) an: to my bbs who requested taesoo + breeding and dg + overstimulating his housewife. a million kisses for yall 💖💖💖💖 i threw jichang in the collection bc...why not.

──★ ˙ ̟TAESOO

It’s the end of the summer and the temperature has cooled down but it’s not so cold that when Taesoo pleads for you to go camping with him and get away from the usual chaos of the city you don’t deny him. The man’s affinity for nature and the outdoors occasionally makes him seem feral; but the only animalistic urges within him seem to be provoked by your presence. 

It’s the very reason why after a mere ten minutes of stargazing together, Taesoo finds himself drunk on the fragrance of your pheromones and crawling on top of you, holding himself above you while his arms cage you in. His strong frame effectively blocks you from seeing beyond him, making you lose your place among the stars after so much straining of your eyes to search for constellations in the night sky. You suppose there’s no real issue with letting Taesoo be your brightest star when he’s always managed to leave you awestruck…

As much as you want to whine about the male being so needy, the way he starts kissing your neck clears away any complicated thoughts from your pretty little head. There was no use in complaining if you were perfectly content with letting Taesoo become your entire universe; his lips warming your skin like rays of the sun. His natural magnetism doesn’t just pull you in, but it totally consumes you in the same way a black hole would. 

It’s truly primal how Taesoo pins you under his body weight, hands pawing at your clothes and pushing the fabric out of the way to get to where he wants. Lost in the sensation of harsh bites and nips at the column of your throat, you don’t even notice him slipping his cock out of his pants and lining it up to your hole that was slick and ready for him as per usual. It’s only when he sinks inside of you, a shocked gasp falls from your lips at the stretch. Writhing against the blanket beneath you, the little pebbles in the sediment that once bothered you felt like nothing as you’re now focused on the sensation of your walls trying to accommodate his girthy length invading your insides. 

“Oh baby, you’re squeezing me so tight. You need to relax.” Taesoo groans out, a cheeky smirk spreading across his lips despite the fact he was reeling from the pleasure of your warm walls hugging his cock brings him. “Unless…you like it when it hurts a little?”

Your cheeks become hot at his snide remark, causing you to weakly slap his shoulder in retaliation. Smiling even wider now, he bucks into you slowly and eases more of his length into your pussy; feeling the way you get wetter—practically soaking him— to permit him deeper inside of you.  Arms snaking behind your knees to get a firmer hold on your hips, he buries his cock to the hilt within you; balls squashed against the cleft of your ass.

“Taking me so well, princess.” Taesoo hisses the praise, rough fingertips digging into the meat of your hips as his eyes threaten to roll back into his head. “This is the first time you’ve taken me without a condom, isn’t it? Should I make you a mommy tonight?” 

Even with your mind fogged with lust, you’re able to grasp the weight of his words. Eyes drifting down to your point of connection, your jaw hangs open upon seeing the strings of your arousal coating his shaft are so thick and viscous, its appearance mimics the exaggerated dribbles of cum in illustrated hentai. Taesoo never failed to arouse you but this may have been the wettest you’ve ever been; you should have realized this when you felt that your cunt had an easier time accepting his impressive length than usual. 

“Do you want me to breed you?” He questions, tone lacking the smug playfulness you were used to and only filled with a carnality that’s emphasized by the throbbing of his cock within your pulsing walls. 

You nod shyly, unable to get yourself to tell him verbally but your silent answer doesn’t please him and he repeats his question; the second time around, each syllable is accented with a punishing thrust straight into your sweet spot. 

“I’ll ask you again; do you want me to breed you, yes or no?” Taesoo repeats more sternly, eyes boring into yours as he awaits a proper response. 

“Yes, please—” You whimper, tears starting to flood your waterline just from the tip of his dick so brutally pressing into your sensitive area, you have to stave off the urge to cum from the action. 

Walls fluttering around his shaft, presumably in excitement, Taesoo takes your response as the greenlight to really give it to you. Ever so slightly adjusting his grip on you, he pulls your hips toward his as he thrusts forward into you. You let out something that resembles a surprised moan when he buries his length balls deep inside of your pussy, starting off the mean pace that has galaxies colliding with one another on the inside of your eyelids. 

Vision blurred with bright colors. Body twitching, jerking, and jolting. Stomach frenzied with heat. Those are all just side effects that come with the nasty squelch and drip of your pussy being filled to the hilt with Taesoo’s cock. Each drag of his thick length against your walls has you whimpering, bringing a hand up to your lips and biting down on one of your knuckles to contain your moans. But Taesoo would have none of that.

“C’mon, princess, don’t be shy.” He coos, the gentleness of his voice not matching the way he viciously thrusts into you to provoke more noises to fall past those pretty lips of yours. “It’s just me and you out here, just like Mother Nature intended.” 

Taesoo’s muscular chest lays flat against yours as he rolls his hips forward as hard and deep as you could take him, stealing a shrill moan that borders on a pleased squeal from your lips. And just like that, all inhibitions and worries about being too loud are wiped from your mind. 

“You feel that?” He murmurs as he leans into your ear, the tip of his cock nudging at your cervix; adding a layer of pain to the mind blowing pleasure that sends your senses into overdrive. “I bet if I cum this deep inside you, I’ll definitely knock you up.” He chuckles while pulling back slightly to be able to look at your reaction to his words. As expected, you’re a frenzy of lust; corrupted by Taesoo’s infectious primal urges with your hair a nest and pupils blown out with desire as you look up at him. Yet your gaze still has that air of innocence, resembling the eyes of a doe. 

“I want it so bad. Pleasepleaseplease cum inside—” You babble deliriously between breathy moans, your body arching into his to ensure that there was truly no more space between the two of you. 

Moving as one, sharing the same end goal. You don’t bother to hold back the desperate pleas and noises that just fly off your tongue. Each and every one of your sounds just encourages Taesoo to fuck you with a renewed urgency; seeming more excited for your climax than his own. With just a handful of vigorous pumps of his cock into you, your walls convulse around him and your thighs tense up. 

Seeing that you had reached your own mind numbing finish, Taesoo continues to fuck you through your orgasm. Now chasing selfishly after his own climax, he doesn’t have to search far to find it within your walls. Quite honestly, the idea of getting you knocked up in the first place had ignited a fire within him that could only be quelled by the sweet release of his seed flooding your walls. Filling you up so much, it starts dripping out of you before he could even fully pull out. And by the time Taesoo creates some space between your bodies, he looks between your legs to see your pussy still trying to recover from being stretched to accommodate the size of his cock and his cum dripping from the hole. 

Instinctively, Taesoo wants to scold you for being so wasteful. However, a little voice in the back of his mind reminds him that nature is plentiful. And there would be plenty of other opportunities for him to pump you full of more of his seed.

──★ ˙ ̟JICHANG

Maybe you were at fault for getting involved with the wrong crowd and doing things that fell under a gray area of the law—but you knew for certain that the local law enforcement was not supposed to be handling you like this. 

You swear, Officer Kwak Jichang has had it out for you for almost the entirety of your young adult life. From writing you up for underage drinking when you were only a few months away from the legal age to petty theft; he was always the one to put you in cuffs and haul you down to the station. Even now, when you find yourself as just a bystander in the wrong place at the wrong time, he’s the one roughly escorting you to the interrogation room to ask about some major violent crime you only saw the tail end of. 

“Seems like you still haven’t grown up.” Jichang tuts with a short laugh, feigning disappointment once the door closes behind you and you’ve settled down in one of the stiff metal chairs at the lone table in the room.

“What can I say? I get a thrill out of being handcuffed by you.” You scoff sarcastically while you watch him take the seat across from you.

“You don’t have to be a little criminal for that to happen.” Jichang retorts with a smug grin, entertaining your antics for no other reason than trying to get under your skin. 

At least, that’s what he tells himself. He definitely had no ulterior motives—purposely taking you to the police station for no real reason and putting you in the interrogation room that didn’t have a working camera. 

Somewhere among the banter and sarcastic remarks about your ‘criminal record’, the conversation veers toward less than appropriate topics. Jichang knows it’s wrong for him to be actively flirting not only while on the job but with a potential witness no less; but he can’t help himself. With all of his previous run-ins with you, he had dealt with you trying to seduce him into letting you go. He was growing tired of only getting to see you in these types of circumstances so the reasonable thing to do in his deluded mind was to teach you a little lesson. 

And maybe, just maybe, you would learn to stop hanging out with punks who keep getting you in trouble. 

“Such a bad girl.” Jichang murmurs, delivering a harsh slap to your cunt as you are perched atop of the cold table with your skirt hiked up and panties torn to shreds; your sweet nectar staining the surface. “You need to be punished for your misdeeds.” Voice dropping an octave, he gives you another spank that sends a jolt through your body, leaving your clit throbbing from the impact yet bucking your hips upward in need of more. He repeats the actions, amused by the masochistic streak you display until you’re visibly trembling.

Jichang’s palm gently cups your cunt under the guise of trying to soothe the swollen flesh before slipping his fingers knuckle inside of you. Curling the digits expertly against your sweet spot immediately, you can only moan and grind into his hand desperately. His actions have you sinking your teeth into your lower lip, trying to keep your noises to yourself as you feel your walls clamping down his relentless fingers. Right when you think you’re about to fall over the edge, he pulls out of your needy hole with a salacious pop.

“What the fuck?” You pant, shooting the officer a glare as you look at him. Before you can complain any further, the very digits that were just inside of your pussy are now filling your mouth and forcing you to taste yourself as a means of shutting you up.

“I told you this was a punishment.” Jichang chuckles, eyes twinkling with mischief as he revels in the sight of you nastily lapping up your juices from his fingers. “You’re such a greedy little thing.” He murmurs, unable to ignore the heat that floods his body while he watches you slurp up every last bit of your nectar off his fingers.

Pulling away from you once he’s satisfied, Jichang tugs at his belt buckle before dropping his pants then pulling you to the ledge of the desk to line you up with his cock.

“Be good and I might let you get off.” He whispers gruffly and leaning in to plant his lips on yours while his shaft eases its way inside of your warm and pliant body; both of you moaning at the long awaited friction. 

The stretch stings but it brings you a pain laced pleasure that makes your head spin. Fully sheathed inside your hot cunt, Jichang gives a painfully thrust into you, making you feel every ridge and vein of his cock is felt by your slick walls. The little noises you make as your pussy struggles to fit his whole length has him throbbing inside of you.

Rough fingertips leave their mark on your thighs and your hands claw at his chest, head tossed back in bliss as Jichang starts off at a brutal pace from the get go. You can only whine and whimper as his thick cock plunges in and out of you ferociously, giving you just a taste of how much you frustrated Jichang. Palms splayed on the back of your thighs, Jichang pushes your trembling legs closer to your body, permitting him deeper inside of you and causing the tip of his cock to press into the same spot his fingers had toyed with.

Getting fucked at this depth dangles the notion of orgasming right in front of your eyes but with your previous climax being ruined, you knew Jichang wasn’t going to let you cum so soon. With his sharp eyes trained on the sight of your sloppy pussy swallowing his length, he wears a focused expression that you crave to break. If you were able to get through to him before he pushed you to your breaking point first, you surely would be guaranteed at least one mind blowing finish before you left this dingy interrogation room. 

However, with the sexual tension that plagued all of your other encounters with Jichang, you were fine with playing the long game. Especially when the feeling of him inside you was something you didn’t want to end too soon.

──★ ˙ ̟DG

Shielded from the prying eyes of media outlets and pampered beyond your wildest imagination, married life with DG felt like it was plucked straight out of a fairytale. It was easy to become jaded by the monotonous routines that came with being a housewife but with a husband who spoiled you like crazy and drilled it into your head that it was important to use your free time to nurture your hobbies and passions, you never lost the pep in your step. 

Being pampered and spoiled rotten didn’t just apply to your daily life; it extended well into the bedroom with the way DG would gift you with orgasm after orgasm. With how many married couples seeking counseling or ending up in divorce due to losing passion in the bedroom, one would think that you were insane when you complained about your husband making you cum too many times.

But such a thing was possible. 

When your husband has you folded in half, ankles by your ears while his fingers plunge in and out of your soaked hole. The digits press right into that spongy spot deep within your walls and the pad of his thumb every so often caresses your swollen clit, coaxing back to back orgasms that leave you gasping and trembling. The huge wet stain on the once pristine sheets that you lay on top of keeps you somewhat grounded in reality. However, it  gets to a certain point where you can't keep up with how many times you've dispelled your nectar all over DG’s fingers or even think about trying to recall.

“T-too much. I need a break.” you pant softly, head weakly rolling back and forth on the pillows. 

“Is it really too much to handle?” DG coos in a quiet voice, his fingers slowing down dramatically but still moving within you as he averts his gaze to your face. Cheeks wet with tears. Jaw slack and your tongue darting out to wet your lips before you speak, as wrecked as you were, seeing you like this really made DG want to keep going. 

“Just give me a minute.” You say, your eyes falling closed as you try to collect yourself. 

With that being said, your husband’s fingers slip out of you, leaving you feeling empty for the first time in hours. His hands don’t leave you for very long, opting to gently caress your body and soothe your overactive nerves. DG’s amiable touch does a good job of slowly bringing you back down to Earth; no longer feeling like your mind had gone off to Cloud Nine to never return back to the present moment. However, at the mere sight of your expression looking more serene and less drained while your figure relaxes against the sheets, you don't have any time to spare before the pink haired man kicks up the heat once again.

While your eyes are still closed, you don't see DG adjusting his position but you feel the way the plush mattress ever so slightly dips each time he moves around. You feel the warmth of his frame beside you and you assume he just wants to cuddle for a bit. With a small turn of your body, you lay on your side so he can pull you flush against his chest. Before you can even comfortably settle in his embrace, you feel one of his hands hook around your thighs and hike it up, allowing him access to your soaked, swollen folds. DG’s length languidly glides across your lower lips, so sensual and so careful, you truly don't mind it at first. It's only when the tip starts to prod at your clit, getting progressively more aggressive, you start to squirm in his hold. 

“C’mon, baby… I gotta see you cum a few more times before I have to get back to work.” DG mumbles into your ear, knowing just how to get you to stop fussing.

All it ever took for you to fall in line and let him coax out all of these earth shattering orgasms was him reminding you how busy he got. Then just like that, you would continue to endure your nerves being pushed into overdrive every time. With how wet you were from previous orgasms, he slips inside of you with little trouble; your drooling cunt happily expands to fit in and slurps him up once he's breached your entrance. 

"Ah…" DG groaned, the feeling of your hot silky walls tightening around his member sending wave after wave of pleasure coursing through his body. His hips undulated slowly, each movement pushing him deeper into you as he began to thrust with more force. Quick to find the tempo that brings you to climax the easiest, you're drunk off the sensation of DG driving into your core with an unbridled sense of lust. 

Your husband is obsessive as he basks in the salacious noises that your sloppy, squelching cunt makes every time he drives into you. He’s put into a trance by the sensation of your walls squeezing around him paired with the sight of you gushing around him; it’s almost enough to make him want to fill you with his seed. But the deep seated desire to turn you into blubbering, teary mess as you beg for him to ease up on you outweighs everything else. 

“Do you remember your safe word?” DG asks sweetly, starkly contrasting against the way his hips are driving into you; mean thrusts targeting your sweet spot and provoking the most depraved sounding moans from you.

The weak nod you give him in response to his question satiates him for the time being. He had every intention of spending the rest of the evening making you cum until he was satisfied. Or if you genuinely couldn’t handle anymore—whichever came first.

#lookism x reader #lookism smut #taesoo ma x reader #taesoo ma smut #taesoo ma scenarios #kwak jichang smut #kwak jichang x reader #jichang kwak scenarios #dg x reader #dg smut #dg scenarios #junggunz.txt

[divinehedons]

i won't hurt you.

navigation: masterlist

word count: ~1.9k words

summary: you meet joel in the aftermath of a terrible accident. reeling from the aftermath of the event, there is a looming shadow that complicates your relationship with the southern man you just somehow happened to meet 

warnings: explicit (but not graphic) content–MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! relatively dark(?)-ish joel miller, allusions to smut (not heavily detailed), graphic depictions of injury, some scenes include hospitalization (not in graphic detail), dubious consent, joel miller radiates mansplain / manipulate / malewife energy, men are trash in general wbk

note: oh. my. god. it has been far too long and i’m so so very sorry for just now coming back! i’ve hit a terrible writer’s block alongside very bad mental health and i’m just now recovering :’D thank you so so so much for 800 followers, it’s going to take a while for me to respond to everyone but i’ll be going through them! i love you very very dearly, mwah!

note 2.0: pls pls lower your expectations, 🫣 i am trying to get back into the groove of things!

You remember the screech of tires on frozen asphalt. A flash of headlights. Spinning, spinning, spinning. Your body ignited in pain. Then… darkness.

Darkness that seemed to spread before you for an eternity. Untethered and stuck in limbo, perhaps in another universe, you would call it the most peaceful slumber of your life. The misfortune comes when you wake. Lightning strikes shake you awake from the darkness of your subconsciousness. Electricity trembling in your chest as it shoots through your beaten frame. A light peers through your closed eyes. Brighter, and brighter… bigger and bigger. A ringing in your ears that almost deafens you.

The world shifts around you, and you wake paralyzed, staring at the ceiling in the warm sun that falls on your body lying there. Everything hurts. There is a humming in your head that you cannot seem to shake out of.

The solitude lasts for a beat. Then another. That’s when you see him.

A sleepless, roughened man looking at you with his warm eyes. Through the bleary vision of your own gaze, a shaky breath escapes him. His crinkled eyes looking over your features with a swift once over.

“Oh, Christ, you’re awake.”

And that’s how you met Joel.

–

In the week that followed your complicated recovery, Joel tells you he saw the crash. Tells you the asshole who ran you over was nowhere to be seen. He says most of it with his eyes averted. Yet you hold your gaze.

You will not be weakened by the shame of your misery.

It is two days later when you confess to him; your throat still rasping as the pain in your head boils and toils beneath your skull. You look at him when he arrives, paint-stained shirt providing evidence of a messy day of working. “I don’t want to think about what happened to me anymore, Joel.”

Your tongue grabs at words the way young children do with sticky fruit in the summer. As if language has become foreign to you.

Joel, keys in hand, meets your gaze with a furrowed brow. “Sure, sugar. Whatever you need.”

Maybe your eyes were tricking you, but you could’ve sworn you saw his shoulders relax from some kind of tension leaving his body.

–

Joel doesn’t know what he had gotten himself into. What he does know is that for some reason, he couldn’t bear the idea of staying away from you. You tell him fragments of what little you remember, your concussed consciousness blindly clawing at every last bit of beaten brain matter for some kind of answer. 

You sometimes cry from the effort it takes you to think, but he’s there. The first few times, he held your hand. As the hours bled into days, he held you as you wet his shirt with warm tears. Sometimes, when the nightmares reach him in his own bed a few miles out from the hospital, it feels like you’re bleeding into him.

From the moment he saw you, he had been marked. And no matter how many times he scratched at his own skin, he could never wash away the blood on his hands.

–

He’s the one to take you home to your quiet little apartment, having grown dust in your absence. You apologize, he waves you off. He watches you as you peer out of the window, comprehending a view that had once been so mundane, transformed into some shred of a miracle for you to still be there, witnessing it all. He’s behind you, ten feet away, tilting his head as your hair catches what little sunlight blessed you the day you left the hospital.

He says your name, and you look back at him with a curious smile. “My God,” he followed. “You look just like starlight.” He steps forward, and that’s when you know everything had fallen into place. Without another moment lapsing, he takes your face into his hands, pulling you into a searing kiss.

You apologize so many times. For the hospital smell on your skin. For your trembling knees. For the dizzying sensation of human contact without the involvement of medical processes. For feeling so unclean.

Meanwhile, he apologizes, too. For kissing you. For pulling you to him. For holding you. For carrying you to the forlorn couch grown cold from the absence of human warmth. So many times that there are times that you don’t know what is there to apologize for. You shake your head each and every time.

The tears roll down your cheek just as he pulls away and his eyes immediately soften. You shake your head, pulling him into another kiss as you whine.

There are many things you want to tell him. But you don’t dare tell him this: Sometimes being offered tenderness feels like the very proof that you have been ruined.

“Tell me to stop, honey, and I will,” he murmurs, holding your cheek as you pause between touches. You shake your head immediately. You want many things. You are hungry and untamed. But you do not want him to stop.

You tell him as much. “Joel, don’t you dare stop.”

And he doesn’t. Not when you’re naked and he sees your bruised skin, purple and yellowed in places. He looks to you just as your body tenses. His demeanor softens, kissing along your jaw and your neck with a shaky breath.

“I won’t hurt ya, darlin’.”

He keeps to that promise. Even when your legs are around his waist and he’s caught in your warmth. He says it again and again as you whine into the cool, quiet solitude of your home.

I won’t hurt you, I won’t hurt you.

–

Falling in love with Joel was both so complicated and so simple at once. Whenever you wake beside him, you wake up writhing from the pain of your injuries; sometimes crying from the nightmares that followed every waking moment. You felt marred by shame for putting so much of your perceived burden on his shoulders. He never departs from your side, his strong arms placating you while his lips press against your temple.

It’s all so simple, the way he cares about you. And whether or not you admitted it, you like the feeling of being cared for. Of having someone that cares.

Regardless, you cannot escape the fact that someone did this to you. And whenever the pain shocks your body, everything but rabid rage escapes your body. You curse the stranger, whoever they may be, for that cursed night.

Joel sees glimpses of this. He saw it most that one afternoon when the hospital called, saying you had been taken care of. By who, they didn’t say. Only that the stranger apologized for what happened.

You were on the floor, hands trembling in the fists you held them in. The hospital bill crumpled a few inches away. You do not see him. What you see is all red.

A wail escapes your trembling mouth just as your hands claw at anything they can touch. It is an uncontrollable surge of blinding, mouth-foaming, unbridled rage. He’s there, trying to hold you down before you hurt yourself. Each wail pierces another hole into his aching heart. Each struggle followed by his gentle shushing, trying to assuage you in the crest of your emotion.

“Whoever it was,” you told him then as you sobbed. “They ruined my life.”

“Darlin, darlin’...” He breathes in, cupping your face. “Maybe he’s around and he regrets-”

“No!” You claw at him, just as he holds you tighter against his chest. “If he could find me, then he could say it to my face. He wouldn’t be some coward who left me alone like this after he ruined my life!”

It destroys him. And you can see it in his face. All he can do is hold you as you cry against his chest. All he can do is shut his eyes, letting the waves of grief crest over and over your frame. Letting your sobs tear him open and burn him out.

He tells you nothing lasts forever. That he’ll be there for as close to forever as possible. You shake your head because you know better. He says nothing lasts forever. He doesn’t know he’s just afraid your pain can last longer than he is capable of loving you.

–

Perhaps, to the end of his days, Joel will regret that drunken night. He’ll regret following his bleary gaze through the quiet, sleet-slick roads. He’ll regret the fact that he couldn’t have stopped his truck sooner.

When he steps out into the cold just as he smells the acrid scent of burning tires, he sees your bloodied face in your car. So small. So undeserving. He muttered a string of cusses. The sudden shock of adrenaline washing away the last of his drunkenness. He looks back at his truck, horrifically beaten, his gaze doubling from his last bout of drunkenness.

He bargains that night. Calls up someone high up amongst the police rank to bail him out. He negotiated for ten minutes. Then he hides the truck somewhere off the side of the road for him to come back to and dispose of. And then, only then, did he call for help.

Only then did he reach you in the driver’s seat, blood now caked to your skin as he lay you out amongst the concrete.

You make some sound, and he cusses to himself.

His rough palms cup your cheek, trying to get you to look at him then. But you were too far gone.

He spoke, anyway. Just in case you’ll hear it.

“It’s alright, doll. I won’t hurt you.”

Even now, weeks after he stole your life from you, he holds you and tells you the same thing anyway. The same set of words that manage to calm you down.

He does love you. And it breaks him every day to know he was the one to endanger you.

I won’t hurt you, I won’t hurt you.

#circe writes #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut

[vermilionpearls]

❤️‍🔥 PAC: Dirty (+18) and sexual letter from your future spouse❤️‍🔥

This PAC includes their explicit letter, a song, and a quote.

I swear to God that if you are not of age and you read this, your guides will bother you and give such headache that you will have to take a nap that lasts, at least, 4 hours.

@vermilionpearls is @pearl-tarotist NSFT (+18) blog!

“Lean in to kiss me in all the places where the ache is the most special.” ( Sanober Khan)

PILE 1

(5oC -10oP – Page of Cups – Page of Swords – 4oC – 5oW – The Lovers)

“I hate to see you with someone else. It pains me to see you with others and I hate even more that you are willing to put your attention on them. You make me so jealous and mad; I hate your indifference and I just want to make you mine. I want to mark you and make you realize you are mine.

I hate the fact that we are away from each other and that I must conform myself just to the thought of you. And when I think about you, my future partner, my wife… I am just able to picture you with others at your feet, trying to worship you when it should be MY position.  I am willing to fight anybody to make you mine and I want to be the only one loving you. I want to touch, caress, and lick the soft meat of your legs. I want to walk my fingers over your skin and see the goosebumps forming on your body. I want your legs to shake and to be unable to move. I want them around my body, and I want your weight on top of me, tired, restless and at my mercy. I want to take care of you.

I touch myself at the thought of you, even if I don’t know you yet, I can imagine all the things I want to do to you. I can imagine your moans and raspy breaths, the warmness of your tongue on my tip and the strength of my hands in between your hair. I want to be the only one to see you like that. And I want to grab your ass and spank it once for every time you let any other man touch you. The image of it just makes my movements faster, I want to orgasm at the thought of you. When you will be mine, you won’t be able to return to anybody else. Your pleasure will become mine too.

And I swear that I will be so good to you, I will get down on my knees and I will make your mind go blind and void, and I will make your eyes roll until you faint while I am tasting and enjoying your wetness. All your attention will be on me.

Think of me when you touch yourself too. Do not let other see you in the way I will see you. Hide your face from them, cause if I know they can see you in that way: eyes closed, cheeks red and mouth open I will go crazy. They are not worthy of you. It just makes me so mad that I have to bite my lips not to scream and moan. I have to be the only one to see that expression of your face. I am the only one that can cum at the thought of you and to the thought of your face.

I want the cum that falls in my hands to fall in your face and lips, that's the only thought I can cum to.

God, why did you have to be so pretty?".

"Hate to sound sleazy,but tease me,I don't want it if it's that easy" (Tupac Shakur).

PILE 2

(8oP – Page of Cups – The Empress – 8oC – 4oS – The Lovers – 9oP – 6oC )

“My love,

The mere thought of you dominates me, but it seems that I am a no one to you. No matter where I go or what I am doing your energy and aura cannot leave me alone. You are always on my mind, in the most dark and hidden corner. You burn me to frustration. I have so many fantasies of you and of what I want to do to you that I am unable to express them …  You do not give me the chance to do so, and your indifference just makes me want to chase you even more. Stop blocking our relationship or the messages that I am sending you. You dominate me, my thoughts, and actions. But it’s not the same for you. Stop paying attention to others.

(It is possible that he has tried to reach you, but you are blocking him, I don’t know if mentally or physically…).

Every time I see you or think about you, I must fix up my pants because my dick starts throbbing and twisting without control. It makes things so complicated, having to hide the effect you have on me to others. Do you enjoy the power you have over me? I cannot tell as you do not dare to look at me.

But I look at you… And you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.  You are independent, abundant, beautiful, clever and Jesus!... You have such a beautiful body. Your curves drive me crazy, and I just cannot stop looking at you and that chest of yours…round and heavy in my hands. I want to bite and suck your nipples while you close your eyes and enjoy the sensation. Your own body is an invitation to enjoyment.

But you always hold that expression of your face as if you were better than me, you make me feel so dangerous, as if I was the one causing all our feelings, as if I was a wolf chasing you… Why do you feel so much shyness? Why are you acting so innocent, little angel? I know you want me to make you surrender. We both know that this is a fake act. You want me to beg because it feels good to you, you want me to cry for your consent. You feel powerful when you make me go dumb and irrational.

              You love it when I tell you I want you to touch me and that I want to touch you, you act all shy but the wetness between your legs cannot lie. No matter how much you want to hide it, you always end up with the taste of my fingers in your mouth… You like it when I push your limits. And those eyes of yours are so angelic and at the same time so dirty that they make me want to push you even more. I cannot wait to fuck you and see how your boobs move when I thrust into you. I swear to God that your body is so hypnotic that when I focus on it I feel like dying, I could cum in seconds, you make me so horny and needy it’s embarrassing. You feel so good and warm… There’s no better place in this Earth than inside of you.

I can not wait to treat you as you deserve, as a queen. Please let me show you how good I am, I have been working hard to become the emperor and the man that you need and deserve. I can not wait to fight with you for the throne that we both want, that would make you put your attention on me, right?

Always yours, (their name)”.

+ Stuff: they really love your bobs! (No matter if they are small, big... They do not care). – They felt really offended at first when you did not care about their first approaches to you. – They really think you are the most beautiful and powerful woman ever.

"Anyone who is observant, who discovers the person they have always dreamed of, knows that sexual energy comes into play before sex even takes place. The greatest pleasure isn't sex, but the passion with which it is practiced. When the passion is intense, then sex joins in to complete the dance, but it is never the principal aim." (Paulo Coelho).

PILE 3

(Page of Cups – Knight of Wands – The High Priestess – the Hanged man – 10 of Cups – Ace of Swords)

“Finally! It made a lot of time that I wanted to communicate with you, I was getting so stressed and worried, darling! Thanks for coming to me. The first thing I want to do when I meet you is embracing you and finally feeling your whole body, your complete self. I know you are going to be perfect in my embrace.

At first, I will want to take you far away from everybody, I would like it to be just you and me. And I want it to be such a pleasuring trip, I want the best for you, honestly. You make me feel so soft and safe that I just want the same for you and the only way I know how to do it is by kissing you shoulders and back lovingly and slowly. I want things to be slow and deep, I want you to realize how much I love you and how much I desire you and respect you. You are like an ancient masterpiece that I have to take care of with and endless amount of patience and dedication.

              I will make love to you. I will focus only on you and I will lick and press all the right places and zones. I want to hug you while I am fucking you, kissing you and twisting your nipples. I want to press and push your clit so softly and delicately that you will feel overwhelmed with my love.

              I swear I will make that trip so pleasuring to you. I won’t stop touching you, no matter if others can see… I will fuck you and caress you until you are tired, sleepy, and satisfied between my arms. I will even stop on the side of the road if that’s what your body is asking of me.

Ultimately, I will focus so much on you and in your beauty; on how much you seem to understand and balance me that I will just find myself upside down. As if my whole world had just changed due to your presence. I will always look at you and those pretty legs of yours. I will make myself upside down so I can just get a better look at you, at your whole figure and at your most sensitive spot. I don’t care if it will change my attitude as it is possible that it is for the best. You will make so malleable that it is shameful; it’s shameful how little I will care.

You could tie me up to the bed, use me, play with me and I would still love it because it is you. I love to hear all your dirty ideas and words, it made me feel like a young boy again, your love makes me feel rejuvenate. The love and the emotional fulfillment when we are one is the beginning of a new era for me and there’s no words to describe how that makes me feel.

Thank you for appearing in my life, I love you a lot”.

+Stuff: there was a nickname that appeared so quick! But I don’t think it was for everyone, so I did not include it in the letter and it was: “my little wild flower”. – Not just that but this group is fond of nicknames…darling, babe, honey… - The majority of girls is going to have black or brunette hair… that’s something that is going to be really attractive to your fs. – This letter is not as explicit as others because your fs wanted to focus on the emotional side and how much they love you and want to make you feel good.

"What's a fuck when what I want is love?" (Henry Miller).

#tarot pac #tarotblr #pac #nsft tarot #free tarot #future spouse tarot #love tarot #pap #pick a pile #pick a picture #spotify #Spotify

[hai7ani]

橘 (TACHIBANA/JÚ) haitani rindou

nsfw (no smut), complicated relationships, canon-typical violence, mentions of blood, wounds & abuse please proceed with caution

thank you for 300 followers! i thought i might as well upload this today ^^

masterlist | playlist

part iii / your lips, my lips; apocalypse

2004

Rindou had experienced true homesickness when he was 16.

Middle of December when the snow had just started falling in Tokyo, and he is home alone, disassociating to some Mozart playing at max volume along some other things (or thoughts) while laying flat on his bed. If Ran was home to hear the kind of music he is currently playing, he'd be a dead man by then.

But he doesn't care about Ran, no. He cares about you. You're the one who's been plaguing his mind -- so sticky and frustrating -- after he'd left your pouty figure back home in Kanagawa with kiss-swollen lips 5 months ago. You and your stupid, pretty lips that has taken his first kiss, your laugh that feels a lot more effective than those pills his Mother tells him to swallow for his migraine, your soft, shaky hands when they reached up to cup his cheeks as you open your mouth wider to allow his tongue in . . .

Requiem in D Minor reaches its peak, and he finally finds it in him to turn the volume down with a click of his tongue -- he's to become a madman if he continues this any further.

It's been 2 years since the boy's moved up to Tokyo alone with his brother. Rindou doesn't think he's struggled much in adapting to the lifestyle -- in fact, it suits him a lot more than he's expected it to. He likes to think he's adapted to it sooner than Ran, although the older seems to be much more put together than he is -- judging from the listening habits and different lifestyles both brothers have chosen to adopt in this big city as two young teenagers -- because Ran is actually doing something useful right now: staying back at school for extra Physics lessons and then attending his Track and Field club meeting after class, and Rindou is here: still dressed in his uniform, still not yet finished his McDonald's that he'd abandoned at the dining table before retreating back into his room to sulk because he's been missing a certain somebody a little too much.

He admits that things are more fun in the city -- the nightlife that he finds himself getting excited to when walking past the centre of Roppongi to get back home after night class, easily accessible skate parks that he frequents with a few friends after school in his half-buttoned uniform, the drifting culture he's taken up after spending most of his savings on a second-hand MX-5 to drift illegally on weekends where he doesn't have to get up early . . . It is all so different and fresh, and Rindou thinks he hasn't felt this good while having fun before.

But you wrote him a letter 2 months ago for his birthday and he still hasn't replied to it yet.

I still think about our kiss in summer. I also miss you a whole lot. See you next summer, and again, happy 16th, 竜胆.

You'd wrote it in the ending paragraph of your lengthy four-paged letter -- all the things you wished he was there back home to experience together with you, your stupid little thoughts flashing by your head while laying flat in bed at 3 in the morning, your already-planned new year resolutions that he knows you're never going to finish despite your sudden burst of motivation, recent hobbies that you've started picking up due to extreme boredom now that December is here and everything outside is cold and slippery -- and Rindou finds himself thinking about you and you and you over and over again.

Summer of 2004 -- when he finished his can of beer and crushed it in his hands as he silently admired you through the curtains of his eyelashes. When you caught his eyes and bit your lip before shifting closer to him on the floor while fixing the loose strap of your tank top. When he inched closer to your face and smirked, before puffing out a small, warm air that smells like beer with a hint of peppermint over your cupid's bow.

When you blushed and decided to be bold by placing both hands on his sturdy chest as you knocked your forehead against his very warm and red cheek. When he looked you in the eye one last time before pressing his dry, boyish lips tight against yours that tasted a lot like your favourite honeydew flavoured lip balm and he'd smiled into it.

Sweet, peachy, and the kiss wasn't perfect; it was merely just a quick peck, but it was so lovely that he finds himself growing warm at the memory of your eyelids fluttering open when he pulled away, only to lean back in and peck at your lips once or twice more before shoving in a tongue and getting you all worked up in the process, because he just couldn't help it -- you were so addictive. You were so pretty.

You are so pretty.

The boy sits back up in one swift motion and looks out the window to his right. He stares down at the bustling, happening city below from the comfort of his high rise.

A train passes by through the underground tunnels of Roppongi. Pristine, white snowflakes falls heavily from the sky and lands on the ground before slowly piling up on the sidewalk as a young child happily tugs on her mother's hand while pointing at it. The yolk of the sun is hidden behind thick clouds, but it is still bright outside.

The wires connect. Stars align. Clouds fade away.

He blushes.

Rindou wants to kiss you again.

He glances at your crumpled letters still splayed across his desk for the past 2 months, and the boy comes to a realisation.

Things are fun in Tokyo.

Life isn't.

And the next thing he knows, he is shoving a bunch of winter clothes and a few bags of expensive taiyaki into his black Jansport, before leaving a quick note on a yellow Post-it to Ran on the coffee table while finishing up his leftover McDonald's.

Going back home for Xmas *a badly drawn Christmas tree*

Will be back before the new years... or not

Depends on my mood. C u

🖕 - ur 弟

He throws the pen down, not before doodling yet another huge, ugly and messily drawn middle finger on the remaining space in the Post-It, and he slaps it on the table.

Rindou leaves for Kanagawa in the earliest train at 5 in the evening with your letters folded, safely tucked into the left pocket of his puffer jacket with a bag of warm chocolate chip muffins placed into the confines of his jacket to keep warm on the ride home. An elderly lady sitting beside him points it out with a teasing laugh and a silly pat to his forearm.

"Who are these for?"

He says it with a lopsided smile.

"My girlfriend."

Three more days to Christmas and Rindou is standing outside of your school gate.

He'd came straight after he arrived, not bothering to phone his parents or inform his brother of his safe arrival back home. Seeing you seemed to weigh far heavier to him, judging from how he's waiting patiently in the cold for you to get out of night class. Rindou knows of your schedule well -- he's memorised it ever since you showed it to him the last time he visited home.

"Fuck," he cusses, nose growing redder and patience growing thinner with each passing moment that you don't appear at the entrance. "Did I get the wrong time?" He murmurs to himself and pulls out his phone to check. Did he perhaps be smart that day and snapped a photo of your timetable? But he's sure you finish at 8 on Tuesdays, with Math being the last period -- he remembers you complaining about it because you have always been one to hate Math, while him on the other hand, is an absolute beast at it.

White snow slowly covers his two-toned hair as he shuffles his weight from one foot to another, and a deep crease forms between his brows after realising that his stupid ass did not, in fact, be smart that day and snap a photo of your timetable.

Rindou clicks his tongue. He's contemplating on leaving -- to turn around and just go over to your house right now. Maybe you are actually home this whole time as he's stuck here pondering his thoughts and you're getting bored out of your mind.

He thinks he cannot waste another moment to see you.

And after a few more analysing and breaking down on what would be the best option to do, a voice calls out for his name. A girl's voice -- smooth and filled with so much excitement, it seems -- and he turns around to look at her.

Himeko approaches him from the entrance -- dressed in her cozy uniform and a heavy book bag is slung over her shoulder. "Rindou, you're home." She jogs up to him, leg warmers falling off her calves as she runs and stops just right in front of him. There's a wide grin stretched across her face as she stares up at the much taller boy and doe eyes squints a little from the lamppost shining down into them. Light snowflakes cover her eyelashes and she simply dusts them away with a little smile.

"Oh, hey." Rindou blinks. He then turns on his heel to head towards your house and Himeko follows along with a finger hooked onto a strap of his Jansport. "Why are you back home? It's not Summer." She states, and she soon realises that the last sentence had sounded a little stupid -- so she attempts to make it less awkward for her by asking more questions and attempting to converse with Rindou, to which the boy doesn't oppose on answering.

"It's the last week before winter break." She states while picking up her pace behind him to catch up with the boy's wider steps.

"I know. How's school?" He asks, his vacant hand shoving down into the pocket of his jacket to keep warm but Himeko nudges his elbow. He looks down and sees that she is handing him her book bag.

Rindou fishes the hand out to get a hold of the strap and he slings it over his shoulder -- just as habit allows. Himeko seems delighted at this, as she crosses her hands behind her body and starts skipping beside him on the sidewalk. But a brown bag hanging off his left hand catches her attention and curious hands starts inching towards it without him knowing.

"Just fine. It's been a little boring though, even the teachers are getting ready for the holidays." She replies. Rindou simply hums at it. He's never been great at conversations -- always the listener with you as his speaker.

And he feels a sudden jolt at the bag in his hand. He snatches it back quick, eyes sharp and movements turning defensive as he stares at the girl who is clearly shocked at his behaviour over a bag of chocolate chip muffins.

". . . What?" He clears his throat and stops in his tracks. He's getting irritated. Himeko tilts her head to the side. She points at the bag of muffins with a pointer, "Are those for me? I like muffins."

"'S for Mom. She wanted me to buy 'em before coming back." And with that, Rindou hands Himeko back her own bag to take. He doesn't say anything further, and he shoves its strap back into her hands, the weight pushing her arms down and she furrows her brows at his suddenness.

It's so awkward. But she is Himeko -- always the peacemaker of the group -- and she decides to clear the atmosphere with a change of topic.

"Ran didn’t come home with you?"

Rindou remains quiet for a while -- obviously feeling a little pissed, but ultimately, he decides to reply to her anyway.

"Nah, he's still in Tokyo. I came back without him."

"Why’d you come home then?"

"I just missed Mom's cooking, 's all." He shrugs. A lie, but Himeko doesn't need to know that. Though she beams at his response, "I went to your house for dinner yesterday. Your Mom's cooking is way too good." My house, dinner?

"Did Y/N go, too?" He asks a little too quickly, the steady beat of his chest growing quicker at the thought of you most probably sitting on his chair at his dining table while enjoying his mother's cooking before finding ways to sneak up to his room and mess with his DJ set that he'd purposely left home for you to play with. He smiles a little at the possible scene playing in his head.

The smile on Himeko's face falters a little at his sudden burst of emotion with the mention of you, but she fixes herself fast and shoots back a response just as fast.

"No, her father came home on Sunday. I haven't seen her since."

Rindou turns his head to look at the shorter girl beside with a worried expression -- a total contrast to all that he's felt just now. He stops in his tracks, and Himeko stops too -- just two steps ahead of him -- with the smile on her face completely gone now.

"What's wrong?" She asks, face full of genuine concern.

"What do you mean?" Rindou frowns.

Himeko tilts her head to the left, trying to grasp what exactly that he's asking, so she repeats her words from earlier by talking slower.

"Y/N's dad came home on Sunday . . . ? She hasn't attended classes today or yesterday. I haven't seen her since she left to pick her father up from the airport. That was Sunday. But we know how it is. Her dad's probably just looking for some family bonding time with her."

Rindou scowls at it.

No, you don't.

Though she doesn't notice it, she shifts a little awkwardly at Rindou's visible shift in mood.

"Bye." He bids curtly and he leaves Himeko behind. The boy quickens his steps and turns into the road that leads straight to your house. He can see the building from a distance and Rindou can faintly make out that the lights are on.

You must be home.

"Rindou? Where are you-" Himeko calls out, but she pauses after realising the road that he's taking. He hears faint footsteps behind him but he doesn't reply -- his beating heart way too frantic for him to say anything at this point, let alone actually think for a response.

Her words play in his head over and over again, and it gets so overwhelming to the point that he has to take a breather and fix his unruly hair that's starting to block his vision.

Your dad is home.

A step closer to your house. Snow crunches beneath his sneakers.

Your dad is home.

The gate is open. He sees the quick wagging of a fluffy tail just beside the metal.

Your dad is home.

Inu-sama sits by the gate and upon sensing his owner's childhood friend's arrival, it barks at him. And it doesn't stop barking despite Rindou being someone who it has grown so familiar with over the years of your childhood and Inu-sama's place in your family.

"Hey, bud." He reaches down to pat your old Shiba, combing down its fur and giving it a few belly rubs before reaching into the pocket of his Jansport to fish out a little treat for your dog. He's not forgotten its treats despite leaving the house in a rush. "Where's 姉さん?" He asks -- as if Inu-sama could speak -- and it can, actually. It barks again to the door after his question and Rindou takes it as a hint that you are probably inside.

But the gate is open. Weird.

So he kicks off his shoes by the entrance and brings a nervous knuckle up to knock on the door. His hearts thumps fast in his chest, breath stuttering in his throat -- not because the thought of you possibly opening the door for him makes him giddy, but because the thought of your father possibly opening the door for him makes him weak. Scared.

Rindou is scared.

Everyone is afraid of your father. Even Ran who is known to have no fear towards anyone in his life -- not even his elders -- is scared of your father. But everyone except Himeko, though. Somehow through her rose-tinted eyes she still holds on to the idea that your father is just like any other: a man who leads and a man who brings structure. But you can't blame her, for she hasn't seen your father in ages. She hasn't seen the man he has become.

And Rindou knocks again, but still, no response, so he tries his luck by twisting the knob. It's unlocked and he pushes it open. Perhaps it'll earn him a black eye for attempting to enter your house without your father's approval, but he'll risk it just this once.

"Y/N?"

He's half-expected the house to be empty -- from the state of your unlocked door and gate to the awfully quiet and icy cold atmosphere of your house. Rindou doesn't think there's anyone in the house.

That is until he looks down at the sound of a sob.

The monster has done it again.

You're crouching on the floor, surrounded by what seems to be broken shards of glass and a few blood stains tainting the marble white of your floor.

He bolts towards you in an instant, not before throwing off his bag by the foot of the door and stepping over the sharp glass to reach over to you on his sock-clad feet. They cut into his flesh and he hisses a little at the sting, but he ignores the pain, and he diverts his attention back all on you.

You're not moving from your position, but he can tell that you're crying. You're hurt -- the cuts and dark bruises that's starting to swell on your arms and legs cracks his heart at the sight, and you're cold -- God, you're so, so cold when he scoops your frail body up and into his arms, away from the wrecked floor.

Weak, shaky hands immediately move to grip on his shoulder, nails sinking into the flesh as you suck in a deep breath upon realising that there's someone holding you -- someone is touching you. You panic a little, a whine escaping your throat and you try pushing him away with all the strength that you can muster. You hadn't realised that it is Rindou. You hadn't realised that he has entered the house. It doesn't hit you that Rindou is back home in the middle of December. You continue fighting against in his arms with more tears springing up to your bloodshot eyes.

"Stop, Dad. Please. It hurts."

That alone sends the boy into a shaking mess.

But he gathers himself, and he attempts to ground you by sitting you both on the couch and pressing your cold body into his warm chest. He buries his nose in your neck and kisses the skin gently, feeling the quick pulse of your heartbeat against his lips while rubbing warm circles on your upper back -- a means to soothe you, a means to tell you that he's here. "'S me, babe. It's me." He says it so softly -- right next to your ear, only meant for you to hear, meant for you to listen.

You shudder a little at the sudden warmth invading your skin and into your bones, and it then strikes you that the person holding you is Rindou. Rindou is home. The peppermint of his smell that you've long grown to love makes its way in grounding your senses and you eventually relax in his secure hold.

You're safe now.

Rindou is home. You are not alone anymore.

And then you start crying again.

"Where's the bastard? Your mom too." He asks, tone rough but he's gentle when cleaning away the blood on your lips from being busted by no doubt a harsh strike and he wipes it off on his jacket. You hold the other hand of his on your cheek to kiss the palm. "The airport. He says he's going back to the States. Just after a day." Your voice is shaky as you try your hardest to explain to him clearly amidst your choked sobs, "Mom is still in Osaka." And he doesn't make you speak any further after that -- he simply nods at your reply and opting to hug you close to his chest and calm your cries instead.

Rindou sighs angrily at your answer, a deep breath escaping his nose. You only bury yourself closer to him at it.

So your father did actually leave you in here all alone like this and went back to continuing his career. He wonders just how long you have been staying like this, in this state.

He looks around the house to make sure the man is actually gone and his purple eyes don’t miss the heavy stacks of medical textbooks and printed samples of medical reports scattered all over the coffee table. Your test paper -- Math, Tachibana Y/N, Fail -- sits atop of the books, the papers crumpled and a little torn at the sides. The large frames that hangs on the walls of your living room -- none of them are yours, all are his -- are all displaying professional photos of him attached with the many titles and prizes awarded to him.

Doctor Tachibana Hiroji, PhD in Oncology.

Doctor Tachibana Hiroji, board member of Harvard Medical School.

Doctor Tachibana Hiroji.

Doctor Tachibana Hiroji.

Tachibana Hiroji.

What a man of noble character and high intellect, but is such a monster behind closed doors to his only daughter, his family.

Rindou turns his head back, and he’s gentle with you - soft hands wiping away the free-flowing tears and light bloodstains off your face.

And he decides that he doesn’t want to see you like this anymore.

Rindou presses his forehead to yours.

"I'll kill him, you know?"

"No, don't. You'll-"

"I'll kill him. I promise.”

Himeko stands behind the two of you -- scared behind the couch -- with eyes so wide and a heart pumping blood so fast underneath the bones of her chest that she thinks she might die.

But a broken sob from you on the couch breaks her out of her bubble.

She looks around the house.

She looks at your state.

She takes it all in.

"But we know how it is. Her dad's probably just looking for some family bonding time with her."

Oh.

tags: @nana-osakii

this took so long omg but i had time today to finish it so here it is ^^

reblogs are appreciated! thank you for reading :3

#解 #橘 series #rindou x reader #rindou haitani x reader #haitani rindou x reader #rindou haitani #haitani rindou #tokyo revengers x reader #tokrev x reader #tr x reader #haitani brothers #tokyo revengers #tokrev #tr

[eggedbellies]

This is an idea I’ve RPd with people (and would love to again if anyone wanted to…) and i just cannot stop thinking about.

The idea of men, instead of carrying seminal fluid and sperm in their testicles, carried eggs. They’re small and unfertilized, but must be spent every month or they’ll grow larger and potentially cause complications. Public sex and public laying of these eggs has become acceptable.

You meet a guy on a dating website, purely for sex. He comes over, and soon thereafter you’re making out on the couch and he comes clean. He reveals a massive set of testicles, full of eggs, likely from 3 or 4 months of build up. He came over with the intention of filling you up with them. It’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, and before you know it you’re being bent over your kitchen counter with his cock in your pussy.

It’s not long before he pauses, a groan on his lips as eggs start pouring out of him. You can feel them, one by one, as they stretch you passing through him. Your hand cradles your belly as it slowly grows with the eggs being placed inside. By the time he’s done (and you’ve cum a time or two) you have the belly of a 4 month pregnancy. You exchange numbers and he walks away.

About a week or two later, the eggs have grown and grown. You’re waddling around with the belly of a 10 month pregnancy with triplets. You feel the sexiest you have ever felt. But, the time has come to lay your eggs.

You go to a public park, set up underneath a tree in the back, and strip. You’re completely naked, legs spread open, and start to push. The eggs come one after one, much larger than when they went into you. By the time you’re done, you’ve laid 30 unfertilized eggs. A small crowd has gathered to watch you, some men slowly rubbing their cocks. And among the crowd is the man who put the eggs inside of you in the first place, ready to put another clutch in you right then and there.

(I held onto this one a while just to keep reading it ngl. god.)

I'd heard of men who did this. It had never held much interest to me, before; sure, I'd been tempted, now and again, in a few relationships, to take their eggs - but I was always a little shy. And I always had work, or maybe personal hangups... maybe that was why I'd never held a relationship for long. And those strange guys, the ones who liked their balls being packed and tender, who wanted to stretch people out... I'd never really understood until I met him.

And they'd looked so good on him, so heavy and full. Slapping against my clit with each thrust. The stretch, god, I'd never felt anything like it, and with the noises he and I were making, it felt like animal breeding. He must have loved it as much as me. How my shirts didn't fit quite right, forced to wear loose jumpers until I could get some maternity wear, the fascinated stares of people clearly wondering how I could possibly be so late term and yet not have them already...

I'm glad it's summer, because even my normal tops are rapidly becoming crop tops. It's hard work to heft my body about. Everything has widened to help with the weight. People come over and ask how far in I am and I try to be vague but not moan whenever they ask to rub and feel the clutch (and I can't help but say yes.)

As the last egg is popping out, and bystanders come to help scoop up the clutch, offer to call my partner, take me to the hospital, whatever I need, I shake my head. I know what I need. Call him from the crowd. There are murmurs, of course, but my body is still shaking with pleasure. We drop the clutch off. Waddle home. Pin him to the wall, all mouth and tongue, biting at skin and clutching at each other, drag him upstairs... and grasp his cock firmly.

Before clipping the cage around it.

Because these last few weeks, I realised just how good that felt. And I grin, even as his eyes widen in alarm. "How long did you wait last time?" I whisper against his neck. "Four months." he murmurs back. "I think we can wait for six." I grin, stroking his balls, before stepping back and admiring how good the cage looks on his thick cock. "Then we can see how big I can really get, hm?"

[dameronology]

be still (matt murdock)

summary: matt is the only one who he'll let get close when he has a bad day

warnings: just language ig

sorry for dropping off the face of the earth for months and not writing a single thing. this might be my comback, or all you will get for another year. we'll see! love u all.

To the rest of the world, Matt Murdock was hard to read.

To you, he was like your favourite book. One you’d read a thousand times; with a plot line you knew like the back of your hand. Every bump on his skin; every raised scar and jagged red wound from his night shifts; you knew the story behind them all. The long pink line on his back was fall out from a fight with the Yakuza two years back. The deep, sunken jag on his right hand was from an unfortunate incident when he was chopping up some vegetables two years ago. I might have super senses, he’d joked, but there are some things you just need sight for.

Matt’s emotions were no different. There were days when even Foggy wasn’t sure what he was thinking – whether his stony face was from boredom or anger, or whether his smile was happiness or just a slightly misshapen grimace. With a life as complicated as his, it wasn’t surprising that Matt came with the feeling to match. In the early days of your relationship, it was something you’d struggled with, but now you knew his signals and his tells. You could see a bad mood coming from a mile off, almost like a thunderstorm on a summer day. Equally, you knew his good moods from the way he would greet you brightly in the morning, or his anxious ones from the way he held your hand. They weren’t always easy to forecast but at least it made things a little more predictable.

A cold Tuesday morning in the fall was no different. September had just come, bringing with it shorter days and colder nights. The tension in your bedroom was high from the moment you woke up – actually, it had been since the small hours of the morning. Matt had come crashing in without a word, gear ditched to the floor. Any questions of his wellbeing or how his night had been ignored as he passed out beside you, back turned the other way. His snores had been the first thing you’d heard from him that night – not a single word, not even a grunt. You could feel an invisible line down the middle of the bed. It wasn’t one you wanted to cross.

You woke up naturally with the daylight- perks of it being a Sunday, you figured (though not a silver lining. Today didn’t feel like a day to be looking for those). Matt was still, tired body heaving with deep breaths as he slept. It was hard to shake the feeling of anxiety that had snuck its way into your stomach; butterflies now felt like wasps and any previous inclination you’d had to reach out to him had died with the hope of him waking up before you and apologising.

“Dickhead,” you muttered.

(You knew he would hear you).

Still, you knew something was up. Even if he’d projected it onto you by swatting your hands away last night and completely blanking you, something was up. It took a moment of building up the courage in your head, but as Matt let out a yawn and rolled over, you quickly moved to snuggle into his side. His hands were on his front, so you made a second attempt to tangle your fingers with his. He didn’t comply, but he didn’t resist either. You stayed like that for a moment, until his dark eyes shot open, and he let out a heavy sigh.

You could have pretended to still be asleep, purely just to avoid dealing with the situation, but who were you fooling? The man was like a human sonar. He would know immediately from your breathing that you were awake. Plus, your not-so-quiet insult just moments earlier didn’t exactly align with something you could brush off as sleep talk.

Matt sat up, blinking for a moment. Any other morning, he would have pulled you into him; pressed a kiss to your forehead and held you tight. Not today, though. He snatched his hand away from yours and shrugged you off, pattering across the wooden floor out the bedroom and to the bathroom. The door slammed and a second later, you heard the spattering of the shower.

You stayed there for a second, heart thumping in your chest and heard swirling with thoughts. Why was he being shitty? Was it your fault? No, you told yourself. It wasn’t fair on you to jump to those conclusions. If he had a problem, it was on him to tell you. You’d made it clear from day one that you hated guessing games. Guess Who was one thing but Guess Why I’m Angry At You had no winners.

The water eventually stopped. Rather than coming back through to the bedroom as he normally would, there was silence. You frowned for a moment – what the fuck was he doing? Was he actually that intent on avoiding you?

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, swinging your legs out of bed and heading out of the bedroom. Matt was the first thing you saw in the living room, skin still covered in droplets of water from the sofa, butt fuck naked. He had a file open in front of him, callous fingers following over the braille as he read it, barely pausing to acknowledge your presence. You could have made a comment about him getting your thousand-dollar sofa wet, even a joke, but that didn’t feel like the right play.

“Hey,” you said.

No answer.

“I have to ask,” you continued, crossing the room and taking a seat beside him. Not close enough for your legs to be touching, but close enough that he knew you were there. “Have I done something?”

“No,” he murmured. “I’m just tired.”

His voice was barely above a whisper – barely even there. Something was seriously wrong.

“Okay,” you hummed.

You stayed like that for a moment – even though you could predict Matt’s mood, you couldn’t always predict what he wanted. If you touched him, would he flinch, or would the front come down? It was like hugging a nuclear bomb, even if the idea of his temper coming out on you was unfathomable.

“Do you want a coffee?” you gently asked.

Another pause.

“Yeah. I could do with a coffee.”

Trying to keep your nerves feigned, you crossed the room to the kitchen, hands working automatically. Kettle filled, turned on, two mugs out. One sugar and a tiny bit of milk for Matt, and then two sugars and no milk for you. He liked the blue mug, because it was easier to hold, and you preferred the purple one because it was the same shade of violet as the dress Taylor wore on the front of Speak Now. You’d brought it in a clearance sale when you and Matt just started seeing each other, and it was one of the first things you actually kept at his apartment.

You returned to the sofa, placing the coffee on the table in front of you. There was still no word from Matthew – not even a hm in place of a thank you.

“You’re worrying me,” you murmured.

Blanked.

Rolling your eyes – and finally getting sick of his head – you whacked the file out his hands and collapsed into his side. He didn’t immediately respond, but a moment later, his hand came down to touch your thigh. He gave your leg a squeeze, and you felt a minute bit of tension rise from the room. Not all of it, but the physical touch was enough to know that things would be okay.

You stayed like that for a moment, before wrapping your arms around him completely. You fell back into the sofa, letting Matt collapse into your chest. His hair was still wet from the shower, skin sticking to yours from where he was still drying, but you didn’t give a shit. You just wanted to hold him, hands roaming over his tense back, stopping on his shoulder blades and using your grip to pull him closer.

“Let’s go back to bed,” you said. “Just for a little while.”

He didn’t resist as you took his hand, tangling your fingers together and leading him back to the bedroom. Matt was hot on your heels, like a lost puppy now, and there was barely a second between you falling back first onto the bed and him following you. His entire body was on yours, legs tangling into a web and arms digging underneath your torso to hug you, head buried in your shoulder. He was limp – almost completely void of emotion.

Whatever barrier Matt had been putting up was gone, because as soon as you tangled a hand in his hair you could feel his hot tears on your skin. He’d only cried in front of you once before and that had been when you’d nearly died after a minor mishap (though he’d argue it was probably more). That meant that whatever had happened on patrol last night must have fucked him up a little – you didn’t want to ask, but you didn’t want to him to think he couldn’t talk about it.

“I’m here if you need,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “If you just wanna lay here or you just wanna talk, I’m right here.”

“Thank you,” his voice was still quiet. “I’m sorry about last night.”

“Don’t apologise,” you shook your head. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he replied.

You tightened your grip on him and he tried to shuffle closer, even though it wasn’t physically possible. You were completely skin to skin and chest to chest, his forehead flush with your collarbone. It was raining outside now, the sound of water hitting the window filling the room with where tension used to be. That was gone now – maybe it hadn’t been there at all, just a figment of your anxiety.

You felt Matt’s eyelashes brush against your skin as he closed your eyes. Sleep was good. It was probably what you both needed, and with his warm, heavy body on yours, it was also hard to resist.

(All you could do was hope that you didn’t need to pee any time soon).

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock imagine #matt murdock imagines #matt murdock reader insert #matt murdock x you #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock angst #daredevil x reader #daredevil imagine #daredevil imagines #marvel imagines

[xoxomoonlightxoxo]

Somewhere Between Hello and Goodbye | Ch. 4: Strangers With Memories

a/n: more angst but at least they aren't as awkward, however, after this chapter, I fear it's only going to go downhill for my babies :(

The dreadful No Contact Rule. Difficult not to break when the relationship is over and even more so when the relationship comes to a sudden halt but the feelings are still brewing inside. When the distance is forced and fueled by the guilt of losing that person again. However, I would be lying if I said that Jungkook is no longer part of my life. That I have somehow completely barricaded myself from his presence. How could I, when not even a conscious stream of thought can overcome the yearning of a broken heart? One that still longs for his touch, his sweet smile, his laugh. One that has been holding on to the memories of our past despite the lack of recollection in Koo’s eyes. To him, we are simply picking things up from where they were left off. Not a complicated task in nature until you realise that our story left off with his first and last “I love you, Mira”. So, no matter how hard I try to push him away, the heartstrings of my own soul seem to pull us back together. Even if he sees me as just a friend, I am willing to fight for everything we could have been, until one day he finally remembers it all. Remembers me, remembers us.

Unfortunately, with school starting, everyone has been getting back into their routines, leaving little time or opportunity to actually hang out. Despite this, Jungkook has made a special effort to “build back what he can’t remember”. So, seeing him has actually become part of my daily ritual. Whether that be going on a morning jog or grabbing a quick coffee after class. Like the good old days, we are connecting as close friends, since everything began that way. Before anything, Koo was my friend, one who somehow filled the void of my family when we were separated by an ocean. For that, I will forever be grateful to him. 

Today was like any other. Tae and I met our new cohort leader, the head of the ER department in the local children’s hospital, who was this older gentleman who wasted no opportunity to crack one of his dad jokes. He absolutely adored Tae, said that he saw his younger self in him, and unless he was a sleep-deprived, broke college student, I’m not sure what the correlation was. To be honest, Tae hasn’t been having it easy either. His grandma was recently diagnosed with pneumonia, so he spent the entire summer working three jobs to send as much money as he could back home. Being the only man, and thus, the breadwinner in the family after the passing of his father, he constantly tells me about the guilt he endures being far away from his mom, younger sister and grandma. The three women in his life he would give up anything for. And, as I’ve watched him slowly run himself thin, I have grown to be protective of Tae myself. Although he is older, in my eyes he will always be like a little brother to me. One whose shoulders carry the weight of a whole lineage.

Packing up our staff after class, Tae recommended we try the new pastry shop that opened by our dormitory. One that he first mentioned when Jungkook was admitted into the hospital in hopes of cheering my numb self. However, during that period the aching pain in my heart wanted nothing more than to be by Koo’s side. So, seeing that this time Tae was the one in need of support, I made sure to take him up on the offer as we indulged in our daily debrief. At the end of the day, we might not know how to properly give an IV but you best believe that we know how to run our mouths. In the span of half an hour, we managed to cover every possible topic known to men, ranging from the rise in the cost of eggs to the hideous new haircut the grumpy librarian decided to debut today. Our conversation could have gone on for hours until it was abruptly interrupted by the buzzing of my phone. 

Koo: Will 20 minutes be enough for you to get ready?

Mira: Depends … where are you taking me? 

Koo: It’s a surprise, just wear something comfy ;)

“Who got you smiling like that?” Tae chuckles teasingly, seeing that his words have lost my attention.  

“Oh nothing, I’m sorry, it’s just Jungkook,” I say, nibbling on my lips to suppress the urge to keep smiling. 

“What did he say?” he leans forward taking a sip of his Americano. 

“I think he wants to go somewhere?” my words drag on as he searches my scattering eyes. 

“Now?” 

“Well, no you’re right, I’m just gonna tell him that I’m busy,” I try to comfort Tae with a smile, sensing the guilt of leaving him alone.

“No, I mean, don’t you want to freshen up? How much time do you have?” he mumbles, gaze softening at my flustered state. 

“Oh, are you sure? I hate to pause our little hangout,” 

“There’s always tomorrow,” Tae assures with a boxy smile. 

“Okay, I’ll see you at breakfast, alright?” I say, packing up my stuff before we wave each other goodbye.

Thank God, the pastry shop was a short walk away from the dormitory as I suddenly realised how valid Tae’s suggestion of a shower was. Let’s just say that today’s clinical was one for the books. Not only did I spill a whole IV bag on my scrubs but I’m pretty sure that there are still some pieces of dried cream in my hair as one of the older patients refused to cooperate. So, as I finally managed to open the front door, I headed straight into the shower, washing myself free of the chaotic aftermath. 

Debating between a woven sweater and a cashmere pullover I settled on the one Koo loved the most. “Peaches, you’re so soft,” he used to say, pulling me into a tight hug as his hands caressed the delicate cashmere. I wore it on our last date before the incident, the one we spent on Oceana Beach talking about the future, our future. Miraculously, after all this time, it still had his scent, the sweet vanilla musk lingered like the memories of our past. I remember crying sleepless nights, holding the cashmere close to my heart as if it were the only thing left of Jungkook. With my eyes closed, I could almost feel his warm embrace. 

Beep Beep 

My reminiscing, however, was interrupted by Jungkook’s arrival. Quickly touching up my makeup, I grab my purse and phone before locking the door behind me. Maybe it’s from the actual physical rush or the fact that I get to see him again, but my heart sure is beating hard. I could practically feel it in my throat. And, the appearance of his bunny smile as our eyes finally met certainly did not help it either. 

“Sorry to make you wait,” I say out of breath, tucking some stray pieces of hair behind my ear. 

“No worries, I just came,” Koo assures softly, leaning back on his car. 

“So, where is this mystery destination?” I grin teasingly, folding my arms in front of my chest. 

“Surprise, remember? Ladies first,” he grins back, opening the passenger door, before helping me buckle up. And, just like that, my heartbeat went through the roof again. 

Driving down the bridge, we were in awe of the beautiful sunset that covered the sky in warm tones. Blasting our favourite song, Jungkook rolled down all the windows before pausing his phone just in time for the high note. And, as silence filled the car I could feel the flush rise up my cheeks from the sheer embarrassment that was my singing. It wasn’t just a voice crack, it was the complete demolishment of my dignity. 

“Yah, how could you betray me like that?” I scoff in disbelief, rolling the windows back up to shield myself from the passing cars. 

“I couldn’t help it, you looked so concentrated,” Jungkook chuckles, mimicking my singing face. 

“Okay, relax, eyes on the road bunny boy,” I smirk, turning the music back on.

“We’re here,” he says, turning into the parking lot. Looking around, chills run down my spine as I realise where we are. The Oceana Beach. This means that while I was fully immersed in our karaoke session, Jungkook unknowingly drove past the exact spot where he lost consciousness on that cold, winter night. All this time, I’ve been trying to avoid this place in hopes of erasing the image of Koo’s frail body lying on the side of the road. Now, I have to act like none of that happened, since he doesn’t remember any of it. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Jungkook’s voice pulls me out of the spiral, as my chest heaves up. Feeling his hand on mine, my body almost jolts from his touch, unable to hide the fear rushing through my veins. It all felt so surreal, to be looking at him alive in flesh but knowing that the Jungkook I once knew was no longer there. 

“Yeah, I … I just remembered something,” I lie with a nervous chuckle, unbuckling myself. Helping me out of the car, Jungkook looks concerned, eyes searching mine. 

“You sure, you’re alright? I can drive back jus…” 

“No, no don’t be ridiculous. I swear I’m all good,” I interrupt his sentence with a reassuring smile. Reaching for my hands again, only this time with slight hesitation, his worried eyes meet mine as his thumb caresses the back of my palms. 

“Mira, you’d tell me if something was wrong, right?” his words are layered with a tone of fear, uneasiness, and genuine worry. But, there’s a short period of silence, as my mind filters through possible replies. 

“Of course,” I manage a small chuckle, swallowing down the lie. With a nod of acceptance and a soft sigh, he intertwined his fingers with mine, taking the bags from his trunk before walking us toward a small spot by a campfire. Setting everything up, I was commanded to just relax, covered under a woven blanket.

“I used to love making smores when I was little,” Jungkook smiles, handing me a bag of marshmallows, before covering himself under the same blanket. Jimin was right, he could still remember the earlier years of his life, but nothing of the recent events. 

“Can’t relate, I somehow always burned mine,” I frown as he can’t help but laugh, scrunching his nose and letting that bunny smile come on full display.   

“Hey, don’t laugh,” 

“I’m sorry, but how does one mess this up?” he leans closer, nudging my shoulder before looking back at the sparks. If only time could stop and we could stay this way forever. If only he could feel the way my heart ached at that moment. 

“So, Mira, do you have a boyfriend?” his sudden question brought me back again, as my eyebrows visibly furrowed from the bluntness of his curiosity. 

“Why? Are you trying to pitch an offer?” I chuckle, leaning closer to the fire to warm my hands, before looking back at his teasing grin. 

“Just trying to figure you out,” he replies softly, eyes searching mine. 

“I used to,” 

“Oh, yeah? What happened? 

“He moved away. Long distance didn’t work out,” I reply slowly, allowing the fake story to play out without succumbing to the tears. 

“That sucks, you guys don’t keep in touch at all?” Jungkook’s curiosity is innocent in nature but naive to our past. I can’t even get mad at him for digging deeper, even if it hurts.  

“I’m not sure he remembers me anymore,” I sigh, replying almost defeated. 

“That’s a lie. Who could forget you?” he laughs, shaking his head in disbelief, blind to the irony of it all. 

“Yeah …” a little chuckle escapes me as well, as my eyes dissociate into the distance. “I'm pretty unforgettable, aren't I?” 

“Pretty and unforgettable,” Jungkook replies with a quick wink, covering my shivering body with his share of the blanket before taking a bite of my half-burned marshmallow.

--

Replaying our last conversation in my head, I felt bad for snapping at Jiah at the mall. It was totally uncalled for and simply a projection of the thoughts that haunted my mind. Not a fibre of my being meant it as we rarely ever fought or even came to a slight disagreement with each other. To be quite frank, during that time it seemed like every interaction I had was like walking on a minefield. With one wrong move, I was destined to blow up and take everyone else down with me.  

Not being able to talk to her freely pained me, as I grew to miss my best friend with each passing day. And if one thing was for sure, then it was that Jiah deserved an apology as she fell victim to my self-destruction. So, after a few hours of crafting a well-developed apology, I made my way to her apartment, which was literally a level below mine. Nonetheless, the walk there seemed never-ending, most likely due to the sheer panic I was experiencing. It wasn’t fueled by the fear of her reaction but the shame I felt from how I treated Jiah. However, none of it mattered anymore, as I stood in front of her door, hand ready to place a few knocks. That is until it suddenly swings open and our eyes finally meet again. 

“Jiah,” I mumble before she pulls me into a tight hug as tears stream down both of our faces. No words needed to be said. Everything was understood through the emotions we were experiencing. Melting deeper into her embrace, my face dug deeper into her hair as the sweet smell of coconut filled my senses, reminding my body of her aura. I missed her so much that I could physically feel the void in my heartache as my teary eyes searched her sad gaze. 

“Jiah, I’m so sorry,” I manage to let out as she gently wipes the tears off of my face. Holding onto her hand, I keep it close to my chest as my heart beats faster. 

“It’s okay, love. I’ve missed you so much,” she says softly, tucking a few pieces of stray hair behind my ear. And, just like that, we were back in each other’s embrace, making up for the lost time we were apart. Catching up, we spent the whole afternoon discussing everything that happened since our falling out. She showed me the emerald jewellery set Jimin gifted her for their 1 year anniversary and the pictures they took following their celebration. They looked so happy that I couldn’t stop smiling. If they ever break up then I’ll know that love isn’t real, because in my eyes they were destined for each other. No one understands Jiah better than Jimin and no one cares so deeply for Jimin more than Jiah. Simply put, they’re soul mates. 

Feeling lightheaded from all the tears we’ve cried, I suggested we go out to grab some late lunch, or early dinner before going on a walk around campus. Jiah was quick to agree as she changed into some jeans and a hoodie before grabbing her purse and keys. Stopping by my dorm, I quickly touched up my makeup in hopes of not scaring innocent civilians from the aftermath of my mental breakdown. And, as we rode the elevator down to the main lobby, Jiah and I were inseparable once again. That is until my eyes widened at the sight of Jungkook standing by his car, shuffling in place to keep himself warm.  

“Oh? Jungkook? What’s wrong?” I stutter, worried eyes searching his. 

“Sorry Jiah, but could I steal her from you?” he asks softly, as Jiah's face turns to mine. Hiding the way her chin was trembling, she didn't know how to reply before taking a deep breath. 

“Call me when you get back?” she nods, separating her hand from mine as I pull her into a hug.  

“I’ll bring you some pastry from the new shop Tae recommended,” I say with a reassuring smile before waving her goodbye. Making sure she got in safely, my eyes turned back to look at Jungkook’s bunny smile. 

“How did you know I was here?” I ask with a skeptical tone, slowly making my way towards the car. 

“You really don’t think I pay attention, huh?” he says teasingly before opening the passenger door. 

“You mean to tell me that you’ve memorized my schedule?” I scoff, looking up at his softened gaze. 

“Pretty much,” he replies with a grin, leaning onto the door frame before caressing my cheek with the back of his palm. 

“Hey, were you crying?” Jungkook asks, concerned, as I cover my red cheeks with my hair. Way to not be obvious, Mira! I guess, my attempt to hide the fact that I’ve been sobbing for hours failed miserably since he managed to notice it after one glance. 

“Oh, yeah, it’s nothing. I promise,” I shake my head with a soft smile before looking back up at his worried eyes. 

“Mira, you know you can always talk to me, right?” his words are followed by a deep sigh as he crouched down before my still form. 

“Of course, I know that, Koo,” I manage to let out a giggle, patting his head in hopes of making him feel at least somewhat at ease. In all honesty, however, I knew that he wasn’t fully convinced, but I also didn’t necessarily hate that. Because a small part of me hoped that maybe, his curiosity would somehow help him regain the memories he once lost.

“Anyways, where are you taking me this time?” I try to change the subject, as his eyes look back at mine. 

“I need your help,” he replies, buckling my seat belt before heading to the driver’s side. 

“May I know with what?” 

“A song. A love song,” his voice is abrupt, but still layered with tease. 

“I beg your pardon, a love song? Jungkook If you think I’m going to sedate you with some vocals then you are greatly mistaken,” I scoff with my arms folded in front of my burning chest. A love song? As if seeing him again isn’t hard enough. Now, he is giving me yet another reason to cry at night. 

“Shhhh, I’ll explain everything when we get there, just sit back and relax,” he assures me with a sly wink. 

“Mmhhm,” I nod, loosening up the seatbelt before crossing my arms over my chest. Navigating through all the turns, my mind is trying to piece together our destination, until we finally stop at a brick building near the campus gymnasium. 

“Koo, where are we?” I ask cautiously, scanning the premises as he opens the passenger door. 

“It’s a studio my buddy owns. Don’t worry the inside looks more welcoming than the outside,” Jungkook grins, locking the car as we make our way up the stairs.

“Be careful here, they’re still under construction,” he points to a hole in the wooden floor, grabbing my hand as I tip-toe behind him.

“Right, and this buddy of yours, you know how?” 

“He used to produce for the band the guys and I were in. The Bulletproof Boys,” he replies proudly until I burst into a cackle, which promptly faded the smile on his face. I couldn’t help it, I was still not over the first time he mentioned the infamous band name. The Bulletproof Boys. Peak comedy if you ask me. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you, I’m laughing with you,” I try to regain my composure looking at his pouty lips. 

“I’m not laughing,”

“Okay, then I’m laughing at you,” I tease again, poking his side as he opens the door to what seemed like a small recording studio.  

“Hey, guys! Come on in,” a man’s voice welcomes us into the dimly lit room. 

“Hi hyung, thank you again,” Jungkook shakes his hand, before looking back at my flustered face. I’m usually not as awkward but something about being in a room with a stranger, Jungkook, and a hypothetical love song just did not sit well with me. 

“This is Mira, she’s going to be our female lead,” Jungkook smiles, giving me a sly wink. A lead? I really do hope he is kidding. Is today April Fool's or something? Where are the cameras? 

“Sounds good to me, who wants to go first?” the man asks the both of us, as I try my best to avoid his eye contact. Fiddling with my thumbs, Jungkook could sense that I was becoming more and more uncomfortable. So, he suggested that we go in together since it is my first time doing something like this after all. 

“Just follow me okay?” he says softly, helping me put on the headphones before handing me the lyric sheet.

“Alright, let’s just see how the melody plays out, okay? Jungkook, if you want to jump in with your vocals now, by all means. But, Mira, you can just use this take as practice. I want you to get comfortable with the lyrics,” the producer explains, giving me a thumbs up as I nod okay. 

Following Koo’s lead I tried to mumble the words under my breath, getting the feel of the song. And, to my and probably everyone’s surprise, everything was going somewhat okay? We were able to finish recording the intro in under an hour and have just gotten to the pre-chorus. After some practice, I was beginning to feel capable of managing this project, until my ears were pierced with a sudden “I love you,” projecting from Jungkook’s microphone. 

“Oh?” I let out a loud gasp, covering my mouth as my eyes shot up at his form across the booth. Searching my flushed face, he grins, pointing to the lyric sheet on my stand. Furrowing my eyebrows I begin scanning the lines with my finger, realising that he was singing one of the adlibs. However, what came after almost made me sick. Suddenly, it all felt a bit too real. Shutting my eyes, I tried to regain my composure, and within a second, I was back in that hospital room, sitting across from Koo’s frail body as his thumb caressed my palms. 

“I love you, Mira. I’ve been loving you this whole time,” his sweet words played in my head, as tears rolled down my face. Feeling the knot in my throat, I was practically screaming, but nothing came out. I couldn't do it, not then and not now. I couldn’t say the words he desperately deserved to hear. And just like that, I was back in the booth, only this time, my heaving body was plopped on the floor surrounded by both Jungkook and his producer. But, before they could ask me anything, I rushed out of the room, virtually sprinting towards the nearest washroom, where I hoped to lock myself from the outside world. Closing my eyes, all I could see were the replays of that scene before they were suddenly interrupted by the knocking on the stall door.

“Mira! Mira, open up, it’s me,” Jungkook’s voice is heavy, almost breathless. 

“Are you in the women’s washroom?” I yelp in disbelief, wiping the tears off of my face. 

“There’s no one here, come out, please,” he pleads softly, moving back as I slowly open the door. Lowering my gaze, I fold my arms over my chest before leaning back on the stall as if I didn’t just pass out in front of him. Taking a deep breath, I tried to explain myself before feeling his arms wrap around my shoulders as our bodies melted into a tight hug. Oh, Koo, if only you knew how much I missed your warm embrace. 

“Mira, please tell me what’s wrong,” Jungkook whispers, burying his face in the curve of my neck, as I feel his breath on my skin. 

“Koo, I told you, I’m fine,” I managed to lie, placing my hands on his shoulders to create at least some distance. 

“Fine? You dropped to the floor and were unresponsive,” he shouts, furrowing his eyebrows from frustration as his hands grab mine. 

“I … I think my period is coming soon. The days before are always killer,” I explain, trying to convince the both of us, before feeling his worried gaze search my scattering eyes. 

“Your period?” he confirms. 

“Mmhm,” I give him a few nods, feeling his grip on my hands slowly loosen. Tucking the stray hair behind my ear, Jungkook leans closer, tracing the trail of dried tears on my face before letting out a soft sigh. 

“Okay, I believe you. I’ll always believe you, Mira,”

Please, don't.

Previous l Index l Next

#bts #bangtan #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x yn #bts x yn #jungkook fanfic #fanfic #jungkook smut #romance #young love #college love #slow burn #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x female reader #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook imagine #forbidden love #peaches & cream jk

[lovesickbrat]

What are the recommended works of literature by the coquette community?

well im glad u asked here are some books NOT on coquette booktok (and one that is)

u have to read lolita by nabokov thats what kickstarted the subculture a difficult but beautiful read nabokov is a true word smith and theres only one other author who crafts imagery on his level

and that author is TONI MORRISON. if you want a book on female friendships, isolation, magical realism and truly unhinged female characters read sula. this is my favorite book of alllll time truly nothing comes close at all the titular character is so interesting is blunt and sensual and odd just like her best friend nel and this is a book i have to read to truly experience

if you loved lolita and want a story similar but about black girls read the bluest eye. this has two major TWs of csa and rape but toni does an amazing job at unpacking generational trauma, cruelty, colorism and desirability and how that effects young black girls esp dark skin black girls. i recommend it to non black coquettes all the time bc some (a lot) of them need to learn some empathy for their black sisters

bonkour tristesse is a quick summer read written by an actual 17 year old in the 1960s about a young girl living a bohemian life with her father until he behins dating her deceased mothers best friend and and she does anything she can to stop it. i read this in a day it was so fun and the author being a teen when she wrote it gives the main character and interesting voice

the moth diaries which i just finished like 4-5 hrs ago is a sapphic gothic novel set in a boarding and day school focusing on the boarding students and their isolated existence its really good def a psychological thriller and you’re left unsure what is real and what is the unnammed narrators psychosis. you can feel her slowly losing her sanity on the pages

stolen by lucy christopher is an older YA novel abt a young girl kidnapped by an older handsome man who she develops stockholm syndrome for. its told with the framing device of a letter its all in past tense and its set in the australian desert so lots of tension here

a book i just started but im already finding interesting in innocents by cathy cootes about a young australian girl who traps her teacher in a relationship and u are nottttt supposed to like this girl but ur intrigued by her shes very demented LOL

audition by ryu murakami is what the infamous movie is based on iykyk if not its about a man who holds “auditions” for the perfect girlfriend and instead gets a psychotic young woman

la batarde by violette leduc is a 1960s autobiography about a woman who reflects on how being born out of wedlock tainted the rest of her life

little birds and delta of venus by anais nin are a series of erotic short stories she wrote for a dollar a page on 1940s france for legal reasons i recommend this to ppl 18+

their eyes were watching god is an absolutely stunning take on black girlhood and womanhood set in early 1900s written in the black floridian dialect at the time it does so well at preserving that culture and showing the trials of being a black woman and its a very romantic and lush book one of my favs

o caledonia which is a gothic scottish book set in the 1940s it opens with the death of the main character and we follow the journey it takes her to get there and it’s supremely haunting

the blacker the berry another tale of black girlhood this time in the northern american stares in the early 1900s very insightful tale of a young woman dealing with love and coming of age as a dark skin woman

the lover the (mostly) true auto biography by maurgarite duras about her time in saigon as a poor french teen and the complexities of relationship with an older vietnamese man as well as her complicated interactions with her family & (sexual) feelings for her best friend

flowers in the attic a classic gothic tale about a young woman who is forced to live in the attic of her familys large estate with her 3 siblings and its as bad as u think it is

we have always lived in the castle is a gothic mystery about the 3 surviving blackwoods and the incident 6 years prior that isolated them from the town

emma by jane austen is a classic truly we all know it we all love it and even i enjoyed it and im a perpetual reader of doom and gloom

lady chatterlys lover is one of the most notorious victims of britans whole obscenity thing and its about a relationship between an upperclass woman and a working class man

wuthering heights is another gothic classic i highly suggest reading

and these are (some of) the more underrated books ive seen in my p much 10 years of being here the coquette literature canon is always expanding and growing

and fuck sylvia plath 🫶🏽

#coquette #coquette aesthetic #ask.pdf

[1dmonthlyficroundup]

— 1D Monthly Fic Roundup —

Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for September 2023! Below you’ll find 1D fics that were all published this month in the order they were submitted to the blog. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup​. You can find all our other posts here.

There were so many links this month that I had to group fics by the same writer together so if you don't see the writer listed, scroll up to find the writer.

Happy reading!

＊ bet on it by @nouies [E, 2k, Louis/OMC]

“We should make a bet,” Louis says out loud, waiting for Dante to look up from his tablet and see Louis’ pouty lips.

“Not a fucking chance.”

or…a fic inspired by Louis at the barricade during AFHF.

＊ Harmony [E, 6k, Louis/Harry]

Alpha Harry and Omega Louis don’t have the most amicable relationship at work. When they get stuck together in an elevator, Harry scents Louis after nothing else works to bring him out of his panicked state.

Their time trapped in the elevator together brings to light some misunderstandings, and maybe some feelings for each other, too.

＊ like a dream but i wasn't asleep by @alwaysxlarrie [G, 2k, Louis/Harry]

It's cold outside and Harry just wants to get into his hotel room and go to bed. It should be a simple task, but it’s made more challenging by his complicated relationship with gravity, a booking mixup, and a really hot guy.

Receptionist Amy is the only victim here.

＊ Calmer Waters by zmmf / @zaynmaliksmiddlefinger [M, 9k+, wip, Zayn/Liam]

Zayn hasn’t been camping in years. Twelve years, to be exact. He’s had his reasons for avoiding the lakeside resort his family used to visit every summer, but with some perspective and his sassy companion of a dog, giving it a go again and facing all that comes with it can’t be all bad…

This has been Liam’s happy place for years; since the very first visit it felt different than all of the other lake vacations his family had bounced around to. Now, having quietly accepted his recent divorce, he wonders if this place will feel the same…

But the last thing either of them expected was to see the other here.

＊ Save Me (from myself) by Imogenlee / @imogenleewriter [E, 159k, Harry/Louis]

The problem with being friends with Liam Payne was that he had a lot of friends... and forced them to be around each other. When they finished high school, both Louis and Harry were equally relieved that they wouldn't have to tolerate each other constantly or whatever it was that they did.

For five years, it worked out perfectly. They'd only had to see each other a handful of times.

Unfortunately, Liam had to go and get engaged, ask them to both be groomsmen, and then go full groomzilla on their arses. With just twelve weeks to plan the 'perfect' destination wedding and throw every ridiculous pre-wedding celebration Liam and his fiancée stumble across, it was safe to say they were firmly back in each other's lives.

And no one could have predicted that was exactly what they needed.

＊ Tongue Tied by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf [G, 1k, Louis/Harry]

Louis’ new bestie placed a hand on his shoulder; he turned with a sway and looked into his blue eyes. ”What do you wish?” The world spun for a moment, and Louis shrugged. It was easy. The only thing he wanted. “I wish that I could tell Harry that I love him, instead of getting all tongue tied and chickening out.” The Irishman winked. “You never know, your wish may just come true.” “From your lips to God’s ears, mate.” He gave the man a hug. “I gotta go before my Uber leaves me.” He stumbled to the door, and that was the last thing he remembered from the night.

＊ I ain't ever fell from a love this tall by @beardyboyzx [G, 733 words, Zayn/Liam]

When he looks at the words, after a few seconds, Zayn feels this sort of relief feather-thrum inside of him — a brief excitement grasping him by the neck, gripping hard, as Zayn’s fingers run over the things he’s just written, admiring how they hold the true nature of his yearnings. And this weird ancestral knowledge Zayn’s got ever since he’s met Liam that first time — before One Direction, before X-Factor, when they were just fourteen and chatting awkwardly waiting for a Happy Meal. The stupid knowledge that this is it for him. That Liam is it.

＊ It's a rush inside I can't control [G, 733 words, Louis]

Wind is hitting him in the face as Louis runs, freely and carelessly, through the woods. There’s no one chasing him for once, and he’s got all the time in the world to enjoy how the soil feels under his feet.

＊ you are the magic in me [NR, 2k, Zayn/Liam]

Zayn is eight when he meets the Prince for the first time. His dad is being knighted — the King has seen the way he fought to defend his village from the enemies of the Kingdom and has decided to gift him a piece of land and a title.

＊ so pretend (pretend)  [NR, 1k, Louis/Harry]

Louis has thought about it as soon as he found out Styles was back in the Country — ever since he made sure Styles was still in England, really.

Or: the White Collar/Catch me if you can AU nobody asked for.

＊ Because I Found You by @neondiamond [G, 1k, Louis/Harry]

Louis stumbles upon a poem Harry wrote about him. A follow-up to Inner Crisis.

＊ Run To You [G, 2k, Harry/Louis]

Harry injures himself while out on a morning run. Louis comes to his rescue.

＊ A Sense of Stability [G, 1k, Louis/Harry]

Harry and Louis have a very mundane and domestic routine on mornings they get to spend together. Harry loves it.

＊ Family Bonding [G, 1k, Harry/Louis]

Louis forges a bond with his new daughter, June, over missing loved ones. Part 2 of June

＊ Little Moments [G, 429 words, Louis/Harry]

Louis’ birthday is a quiet affair this year, but it’s for good reason.

＊ You Are A Song by @lululawrence [NR, 3k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw]

To Louis, Nick felt like poetry in motion. He was a bit of chaos surrounding Louis’ otherwise monotonous days, and Louis was quickly becoming addicted.

＊ Did You Know I Fit In A Dryer?  [NR, 4k, Louis/Jordan North]

“Oi, mate!”

There was some knocking and after the voice coming from right behind him when he had clearly just seen an empty room, Jordan didn’t think he could be faulted for jumping and screaming a bit.

“Mate, can you help me open the door?”

＊ Were You There On That Christmas Night? [NR, 2k, Harry/Louis]

“Thank god you’re here,” Harry said, rushing up to Louis as he tried to have his students join the cacophony being produced by the other year twos that were already in the gymnasium.

“What’s happened now?” Louis asked, quite worried.

Or the one where Harry has some fears regarding the animals present in the school's nativity play.

＊ No Constraints [NR, 863 words, Louis/Greg James]

Louis is really not understanding this particular section of his Vector Calculus course, and his tutor doesn't seem to get what Louis is having a hard time with.

Until he does.

＊ Disenchanted (series) by @hellolovers13 [M, 25k, Harry/Louis]

Witch Harry just trying to live his life. Then there's Louis.

The Potion (Part 1)

If Harry were a calm and collected person, he would simply take the scroll back now and leave. Sadly, his mama had blessed him with lots of wonderful things, his soft curls, his biting green eyes, his magic affinity, but he had not inherited any of her patience.

So instead, he got right up in Hedgehog’s face, thrilling at the fact he had to bend down just the tiniest bit to look into his eyes.

Such a shame, too. This guy had pretty blue eyes and if he wasn't drenched in the stench of The Hunters™, he might've even made a decent fuck, but that was neither here nor there now.

or Harry is a witch minding his own business, Louis is a nuisance.

The Escape (Part 2)

Harry is still minding his own business, Louis is still annoying. Well, fine. Maybe he is the tiniest bit helpful, too.

The Healer (Part 3)

Harry is trying to-

Louis is-

He's going to make it. Harry will make sure of that.

The Curse (Part 4)

Time for Harry to confront his past. Or not?

The Heart (Part 5)

True love isn't something that was ever going to be in the cards for Harry. It finds him anyway.

＊ 1957: here to take my medicine by zita17 / @louisandtheaquarian [E, 2k, Louis/Harry]

Styles - and Louis - are esteemed members of a whole class, an entire community—fuck, it’s being called a generation—who are hellbent on hearing the sound of their own voices reciting their own words.

But this?

The heavenly nothingness that comes when Louis, with all the precision of a surgeon wielding his sharpest scalpel, separates the Harry Styles from all of his fancy words?

This silence is Louis’ greatest poetry.

See, the downside of being the heralded ‘voice of a generation’ is that the voices in Styles’ head never stop.

Except when Louis makes them stop.

Beat poets Louis Tomlinson and Harry Styles blow off some steam before a reading. Very loosely inspired by Howl, Ginsberg, Cassady, Kerouac, and the asterisks in Medicine.

＊ 1967: not thinkin' 'bout you all the time [E, 8k, Harry/Louis]

It’s September 1967, the flower children have taken over the Haight, The Beatles are learning to meditate, and their American counterparts travel to an ashram on a California cliffside to do the same. Louis just didn’t expect it to be the new home of their old band member—and his ex, Harry.

When he’d left home four years earlier, Harry never expected to see his childhood friends again, and even though now they’re writing songs around the campfire in earshot of Harry’s cottage, he still doesn’t have to - he can just stay inside and keep meditating. Except that Louis keeps playing the melody of his song.

And one night, Harry breaks.

Loosely inspired by Baby Honey, Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds, the true story behind The Beatles’ Dear Prudence, CCR, and the countercultural revolution.

＊ 1978: i still crave it, you complicated freak  [M, 3k, Louis/Harry]

"This man is the music.

He’s the embodiment of millennia of human suffering, purging the tears of mankind through the beads of his sweat.

This is Louis Tomlinson.

And he’s fucking magnificent."

It's September 1978, and the king of glam rock, Harry Styles, sneaks into the show of a man who's defining a whole new genre called punk rock and who, okay, also happens to be his ex. Or, at least, well, it's complicated.

Inspired by Complicated Freak, Velvet Goldmine, whatever David Bowie/Mick Jagger/Iggy Pop/Lou Reed had going on, and a dash of Louis at the barricade.

＊ 1991: don't ask me to talk about [M, 5k, Louis/Harry]

In September 1991, Q&A Magazine publishes a cover story and interview with Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson, the stars of the ground-breaking queer indie drama, Muse of Fire, but the real story behind their friendship isn't quite what makes it onto the glossy pages.

Inspired by Talk, My Own Private Idaho - the film and its filming, whatever River and Keanu had going on, and the underbelly of early 90s Hollywood and The Viper Room.

＊ Tell me with your mind, body and spirit by @enchantedlandcoffee [T, 479 words, Harry/Louis]

Two short drabbles in the Coach Tommo Universe about poems. Part 2 of The Coach Tommo Universe

＊ And I Can Lend You Broken Parts That Might Fit  [G, 551 words, Louis/Harry]

Louis and Harry talk about Harry's life after becoming pregnant, and a key figure in Harry's life. Part 3 of The Coach Tommo Universe

＊ Like this with a tight grip by @enchantedlandcoffee [E, 146 words, Louis/Harry]

A smutty drabble with a jealous Louis and an impromptu heart to heart. Part 4 of The Coach Tommo Universe

＊ Hold On I Still Need You  [T, 1k, Louis/Harry]

"Please pick up. Please, please, please..." Harry muttered, biting the tip of his thumb as he listened to the phone ring. You have reached the voicemail of- "Fuck!" Harry's phone dropped to his bed as he began pacing his room, mumbling to himself as he tugged at his hair. It had been four days. Four days since he had heard from him. Four days since he'd woken up to an empty bed. Four days since- No. No, he couldn't, wouldn't, think of that. He needed to be strong. If not for himself, then for Louis. He paused his pacing and stared at the phone on his bed, the blank screen almost mocking him as he debated his next move. He'd already messaged and called everyone that Louis would go to, desperate for a sign that he was okay. When that failed, he'd run around their town, visiting Louis' favourite places to go. There was one place Harry hadn't searched, that he couldn't bring himself to search just yet.

OR The one where Louis goes missing and Harry desperately tries to find him.

＊ I promise that I'll love you for the rest of my life  [G, 358 words, Harry/Louis]

Vows and a kiss to seal the deal

＊ Rush Hour Crush [G, 1k, Louis/Harry]

Harry took a moment to take in his knight in shining armour. The man’s hair was swept elegantly across his face, dazzling blue eyes staring back at him. Letting his eyes wander further, he spotted a hint of a tattoo peeking out from the man’s collar and had to stifle a groan, forcing his eyes back to the man’s face. Tattoos were his weakness and he couldn’t very well embarrass himself more in front of the man. So he focused on the man’s face again. He seemed to be only a year or two older than Harry and he could immediately tell why Niall was comfortable leaving Harry with…whatever his name is. He probably should find that out at some point. That’d be good to know for a potential friend, or boyfriend.

OR An eventful meeting, a consuming crush and a meddling best friend.

＊ Come Back, My Love by amomentoflove / @daggerandrose [E, 29k+, wip, Harry/Louis]

Frank and Shelley Harper are masterminds. They’ve created a storefront to entice those with gentle hearts and a willingness to help in times of catastrophe only to capture them for their own twisted goal.

The Victory Project.

The only ones who earn any sort of ‘victory’ are Frank and Shelley. No one else wins. While they don’t know what exactly is done to or with those who join the Victory Project, David has a gut feeling that it isn’t anything good. Part 2 of The Victory Project

＊ like a moth into a flame by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed [T, 5k, Zayn/Louis]

Louis’ eyes light up. “Someone wrote a sex poem?” He ignores the way other teachers look their way, lowers his volume, but not by enough, if the narrowing of Zayn’s eyes is any indication. “Someone wrote a sex poem?” He repeats, barely able to keep from giggling. He’s twenty-seven years old and he shouldn’t be so delighted by the fact that some fifteen-year-old in Zayn’s class wrote something raunchy, but he can’t help it.

“Worse,” Zayn mutters, the dejected slump of his shoulders actually making Louis feel a little sorry for him. “Someone wrote a sex poem about me.”

＊ I'll Run (Run To You) [M, 1k, Louis/Harry]

What do people need after running a marathon?

Louis remembers the first time he Googled that, about 2.8 minutes after saying goodbye to Harry during a round of speed dating. It was probably a bit of a dickish move, considering he was already sat opposite another, presumably lovely, boy, but all it had taken was one look at Harry and he'd known.

＊ like a bridge over troubled water (I will lay me down) [T, 6k, OT5 friendship]

Zayn loves all of his friends. He just might love Liam in a different way.

Or: a love letter from Zayn to his friends, written in 4+1.

＊ (don't you ever) hope for something else [T, 5k, Zayn/Liam]

A long time ago, in the kingdom Zayn calls home, a foolish king disregarded a prophecy, sending the country into a decade-long war, nearly bringing its people to extinction.

Once the battle had finally been over and peace had been restored, once a new king had been crowned, a new law had been written into place: henceforth, from now until the end of times, no prophecy shall ever be disregarded.

Which is all fine and well, Zayn supposes, until your name is called.

＊ you try to stop it tumbling (but on and on it goes) [G, 2k, Liam & Harry]

Liam just needs to apply himself more.

Liam is smart, he just needs to work harder.

“Focus,” his father had said. “You can do this Liam. Just focus.”

But how? How can he focus when his brain isn’t letting him? When he can sit and stare at his homework for hours, unable to separate one train of thought from another, unable to get a single word onto paper?

Just do it.

That’s what he tells himself, sitting at his desk. Just do it. Just-

＊ The Lovers by @reminiscingintherain [T, 1k, Louis/Harry]

“Come inside,” an eerie voice seemed to echo from the darkness. “Come inside, and seek your destiny.”

＊ Private  [T, 2k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw]

Louis was not in the mood for a nightclub. At all. Let alone a series of them.

But, he sighed to himself, it was his fiancé’s birthday, and this was the event he had chosen.

A club crawl along Canal Street.

Or, it's Nick's birthday, and Louis doesn't want to miss it... but he's not exactly out, and things are not as easy as they should be...

＊ Dear Darlin'  [M, 2k, Niall/Olly Murs]

A series of timestamps from the headline years in Take The World By Storm Part 2 of Take The World By Storm

＊ In Chains [G, 316 words, Harry]

Stream of consciousness

＊ Are We In the Clear by asphodelknox / @iamasphodelknox [M, 1k, Louis/Harry]

England, 1256.

Louis and Harry meet across a crowded court at a time when falling in love would mean their destruction. With help from a friend, they run for their freedom.

Louis urges them on. Harry remembers.

＊ No Place I'd Rather Be [E, 29k, Harry/Louis]

Harry's had a crush on his stepfather's friend for six years. A small crush. A tiny crush.

Honestly, if you don't look at Harry's dozens of poems about Louis Tomlinson, the crush is practically infinitesimal. They haven't even had a conversation.

But then a car wreck prompts them to finally have a conversation.

Christmas works its magic, Harry pines, Louis fonds, and they just might make it.

＊ The Places I Share With You  [M, 7k, Louis/Harry]

Five times Louis comes home to Harry and one time he's ready to welcome Harry home.

The process of Louis and Harry finding home in each other.

Sequel/Coda/Epilogue to No Place I'd Rather Be. Part 2 of The Places We Share

＊ Fight For Us by @fallinglikethis [E, 11k, Harry/Louis]

Louis isn’t okay.

It’s beyond wrong, the way they’re held in a cage waiting to be chosen for mating. It’s the way it’s been all Louis’ life, but he never wanted to end up like this. He’d hoped against hope that he’d present as a beta since they don’t have these same restrictions on them. They don’t have to adhere to their biology.

And one dark night, long after all of the other omegas in the pen have fallen asleep, biology comes calling for Louis.

＊ Let Me Taste Your Silhouette by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28 [E, 4k, Louis/Harry]

Harry’s pulled out of his swirling thoughts then by the insistent buzzing of his phone again. He groans and reaches over to decline the call, except that it’s not Jeff calling this time.

It’s Louis.

Despite it being a rather warm day in London, Harry can feel the goosebumps raise on the skin of his arms. And for once he doesn’t really know what to do. For some reason, it hadn’t actually occurred to him that Louis might try to reach out.

Except that Louis is reaching out, which must mean he’s seen the picture.

(Or the one where Harry accidentally posts a picture to his main Instagram story instead of only to his close friends, and he just happens to be wearing a 28 Official Programme shirt. Louis happens to notice).

＊ Ace of Hearts by @allwaswell16 [E, 10k, Louis/Harry]

Louis Tomlinson, the alpha Duke of Yorkshire, had returned to England to stay now that he’d married and mated. But since his husband was also the omega he’d once held captive aboard his half-brother’s pirate ship, he held back from pushing Harry into parenthood.

With the Ace of Spades now docked in London, Harry spent time with his friends from the crew and remained a bit oblivious to his alpha’s deepest desires. What he was aware of was his best friend’s hurt and his mother-in-law’s wish for more than friendship with her oldest friend. Part 3 of Ace of Spades

＊ The Cats that Got the Cream by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright [M, 3k, Harry/Louis, Liam/Harry/Louis]

When Louis accidentally releases the tiger trapped in Harry's thigh tattoo, Harry has to explain not just what the fuck is happening, but that it's not just a tiger. Luckily, Louis has a secret of his own that might help.

＊ someday, girl, we’re gonna get to that place  [T, 2k, Louis/Harry]

Harry's been drawn to pantyhose since he was a kid. If only he could stop taking every snag and run personally.

＊ Shoulder ’n’ the Load  [E, 2k, Louis/Harry, Louis/Louis' band]

When Louis breaks his arm and ends up in the hospital in traction, Harry comes up with an idea to distract him from the pain and discomfort. Louis' bandmates are all too happy to pitch in.

＊ Stable Hand [M, 3k, Harry/Louis, Louis/Zayn]

Harry and Zayn are wealthy ladies of leisure who bond over their shared interests, namely: dressage and cheating on their husbands with the gorgeous young stable boy. Though they both enjoy how submissive Louis is in bed, when they learn he might have it in him to take more control in the bedroom, they decide they might like to try switching things up.

＊ The Doppel Effect  [T, 6k, Harry & Louis]

In a future where the rich and famous can use lifelike android doppelgangers to increase their reach and expand their fortunes, unauthorized use of the technology by enterprising criminals results in a sub-class of doppelgangers referred to as Forgeries.

Harry Styles lives a simple life, far from the luxurious and nefarious worlds occupied by Dops and Forgeries. At least, he's never had a reason to think otherwise. Until a mysterious stranger shows up and threatens to turn Harry's world upside down.

＊ Amenable [E, 3k, Zayn/Louis]

Zayn guides Louis through a marathon day of fucking, exploring Louis' submissive side through a series of varied constraints. Louis is game for it all, because nothing makes him feel freer than following Zayn's rules.

＊ Take Me Home by jacaranda_bloom / @jacaranda-bloom [E, 26k, Harry/Louis]

Louis loves his new home, up high on the mountainside, and the perfect place to write his songs. Sure, it’s isolated, but that was the point. No distractions, no interruptions. Peace and quiet and tranquillity.

But when a stranger arrives and asks if he can camp by the riverside, Louis surprises himself by agreeing without a moment's pause.

OR the story of how when you think you’ve got everything you ever wanted, life has a way of showing you just how wrong you were.

＊ Toil and Trouble by stretchmybones / @harryslonecurl [E, 3k, Louis/Harry]

Harry and Louis are sirens who suck the souls out of humans in order to make potions

＊ in the hope of open hands by @justanothershadeofblue [T, 13k, OT5]

Five times the pack is protective of omega Harry, and one time Harry protects them. Featuring Louis and Liam as alphas, Zayn and Niall as betas, and Harry’s as the band's lone omega. A year and some change in which they’re all falling for each other and not quite getting their shit together (until they do, of course).

＊ you were in my dream by staybeautiful / @harruandlou [E, 59k, Louis/Harry]

“I had a sex dream about Harry.” Louis slapped his free hand over his mouth after the words slipped out.

Zayn paused, his hand freezing as he was about to take a bite, his head snapping up to look at Louis. Louis could relate, it’s how he’d felt that morning after he’d woken up. He’d laid in bed for fifteen minutes trying to figure out what had happened, why it had turned him on so much, and then patiently waiting for his erection to go down.

“Like… my Niall’s Harry? Harry Styles?” Zayn clarified, his face bewildered as if trying to comprehend what had just happened. “Do you even like Harry?”

“His last name is Styles?”

or Louis woke up after having a sexy dream about his best friend’s boyfriend’s best friend resolved to never think about it again. He hardly knew Harry, so what difference would it make? But when they are thrown togethe r only a few days later, Louis had to admit, his subconscious might have been onto something.

＊The Park by larry_hiatus / @larry-hiatus [G, 1k, Harry/Louis]

Harry is a student who is trying to write, but Louis would rather be sleeping tonight. Harry is struggling to find his last rhyme, though the answer may be right there the whole time. Based on this Bert and Ernie skit from Sesame Street

＊ Dirty Bunny [E, 5k, Louis/Harry]

Harry has a private kink that he likes to indulge in after Louis comes back from his runs. It’s his own dirty secret, until the day he gets caught.

＊ It's human to break, it's hum an to fall [T, 1k, Harry/Louis]

A wobbly ladder and a stubborn Louis don’t make for a good combination, and now he’s left to deal with the painful consequences. His boyfriend Harry can’t help but be annoyed that Louis didn’t listen to him, but he quickly puts aside his irritation when he realizes something else is wrong.

＊ Don't Forge Me [G, 1k, Louis/Harry]

Harry wakes up to a fruit bouquet the morning after his last night with his boyfriend. Harry knows he won’t see Louis again for a while, but when he reads the confusing note tucked amongst the melons and pineapple flowers, Harry wonders if he’ll ever see Louis again…

＊ From Now Til Forever (series) by LiveLaughLoveLarry / @loveislarryislove [G/T, 6k, Harry/Louis]

doodles & daydreams 

Harry sits in math class and thinks about Louis. Mediocre teen love poetry is written. A dropped pen becomes a prized possession.

where no one else is

Harry and Louis became friends through watching their parents' marriages fall apart. Sometimes it's hard to believe in love when you watch it crumble. But maybe they can find a way to believe anyways.

you are my christmas

Harry wants their first Christmas together in their first home together to be perfect, something they'll remember for the rest of their lives. He gets one of those two things.

build a time machine

Louis and Harry have been planning to travel across Europe together for years, but never quite had the time or money to do it. Now they have it -- but something is still missing on the trip of a lifetime.

orange blossom

Louis comes home from work with a present for Harry -- or at least, Harry will probably love the present once he finishes being stressed about it.

#28th appreciation #1dficvillage #trackinghappily #trackinghome #ficsfor4am #tracksintheam #1dsource #one direction fan fic #larry fanfiction #larry fan fic #ziam fanfiction #zouis fanfiction

[zmzebra-writes]

Title: Well if he won't become my wife, then I guess I'll have to man up and be the wife instead Chapters: 1/? Summary: Rinne and Hiiro talk about their relationships with others and Hiiro tries to give advice on Rinne’s relationship with Niki.

It was a warm summer day, but Rinne and Hiiro were prepared for that as they ate popsicles in the Sky Garden. It had been a while since they had been able to catch up with just the two of them. 

“Hey, brother?” asked Hiiro as he chomped on his popsicle.

“Yeah?” replied Rinne as he gnawed on the remaining stick.

“I’ve been wondering, but what’s your relationship with Shiina? You always talk like you’re married, but Shiina denies it. I can tell he cares about you, but it is very complicated to me.” Rinne raised his eyebrows. “Is it because of idol rules? Aira told me the ‘no relationships’ one is pretty strict, which is why I have to be careful in public.”

“How is the little girlfriend anyways, Hiiro? He treatin’ you well?” said Rinne.

“Brother… you’re dodging the question,” said Hiiro. Despite wanting to talk about his wonderful boyfriend, he wanted to know the truth about his brother’s relationship first. If his brother and Niki really were married, he should be calling Niki his brother as well.

“Haha, not going to let me get away this time, huh lil’ bro?”

“Brother… This is important.” 

“Mm I get it,” said Rinne, “I’ll keep it simple for you, but like Niki says, we aren’t actually married. I keep asking him, but he keeps turning me down. Always says something about the law or whatever.

“But that won’t stop me from trying,” remarked Rinne with determination.

“Because you love him?”

“Yes, but also because it feels like the best way to thank him for all the things he’s done for me. He took care of me when I first came to the city after leaving home, even when he was barely able to take care of himself. He’s a kind, incredible person, but I doubt he can see it,” explained Rinne.

“He can’t stop thinking he’s a burden, but if we were married and Niki was my wife, he wouldn’t worry about burdening me as it is the responsibility of the husband to take care of his spouse through thick and thin.”

Hiiro thought about this for a while as he took in his brother’s words and gnawed on his own popsicle stick. “Hmmm… Maybe Shiina just doesn’t want to be your wife?”

Rinne choked at his brother’s blunt words. “Ha! Yeah he does act like that, huh… so harsh little bro…”

Hiiro, seeing his words being misunderstood, waved his hands quickly. “That’s not what I meant! I mean, I did, but, um, how to explain this…”

Rinne waited patiently for his brother to sort out his words. He knew his brother didn’t mean any harm and he was curious where Hiiro was going with this. 

Eventually, it looked like Hiiro had found the right words to say. “When I first started dating Aira, I called him my girlfriend because I thought he would like it since he stopped denying it when you called him that. 

“But then, after telling Mayoi and Tatsumi that he was my girlfriend, Aira got really red and went off about how he wasn’t my girlfriend, but instead was my boyfriend. So it turned out he wanted to be the boyfriend, and I’m alright being the girlfriend if that means I get to be with him.”

Rinne took in his brother’s words. “That makes sense, though I never would have expected that from your little boyfriend. He looked like he would enjoy being a wife.”

“Umu! But I believe what Aira says, and I’ll stay with him forever, if he lets me.”

“So you’re saying that if I really love Niki, I should ask him to be my husband? And you would be okay with that?” Rinne looked seriously into Hiiro’s eyes, “It’s usually pretty important that us Amagis pass on the family name, and with you being Aira’s girlfriend, I’m the only one left to do it. Personally, I don’t really care too much about tradition, but I know the village is still important to you.”

“Umu! If it will let you be happy with Shiina, I think you should do it,” said Hiiro, “Love is more important than pride.”

Rinne still wasn’t completely sold. “Hmmm, I don’t know Hiiro…”

“It’s worth trying at least. Like Tatsumi told me when I wanted to confess to Aira, the worst thing that can happen is he says no,” comforted Hiiro.

“You’re right… Wait, did you just say you went to Tatsumi over me to ask for advice on asking out the little boyfriend?!” Rinne felt hurt and like his older brother privileges were being stolen out from under him.

“No offense brother, but you don’t seem very good at asking out people you like.”

“And Tatsumi is?” Rinne needed to defend himself by dragging his little brother’s unit mate into the mud with him, “I don’t see him with any dates!”

“Maybe, but it was that or Mayoi.”

“Ah, yeah. That makes sense.”

Hiiro nodded. “I didn’t want to put Mayoi on the spot.”

“Mm yeah that’s the only reason,” Rinne reoriented the conversation, “So you think I have a shot? And you are okay with the Amagi name dying with us?”

“Umu! You taught me to listen to my heart when it comes to important decisions and I believe that if this will let you be happy, it must be right.”

“Thanks, lil’ bro,” said Rinne as he ruffled Hiiro’s hair.

#fanfic #rinne amagi #hiiro amagi #rinniki #hiiai #enstars #ensemble stars #my writing

[jostyriggslover96]

Unexpected Connections Pt.3

Summary: Y/N has a complicated history with Navy men and has sworn off dating them completely. When she finds herself working at the Hard Deck to earn some extra money, Navy men are hard to avoid. Catching the eye of Rooster, Y/N is determined to avoid any potential feelings she may have for him, despite his persistence. Will Y/N be able to avoid her feelings for Rooster and avoid the Navy man that made her resent the profession? Or will she make some unexpected connections that she can’t shake off?

AN: Thank you to everyone who has been reading and sending this story love! I appreciate it more than I can explain! This chapter is really important for relationship building and things that are to come, so enjoy! As always, let me know if you want to be tagged. Thanks again for reading!

 Warnings: Swearing, angst, crying, mentions of alcohol, complicated relationship with a parent, Jake being Jake.

Word Count: 3.7k

Pt.2

Unexpected Connections Part 3

Your next day off after your dinner with Phoenix didn’t come for a whole week. As much as you wanted to be at home lounging around in sweatpants, you somehow found yourself scrolling through text messages in a booth at the Hard Deck. You promised Amelia you would go over the list of summer books she had the option of reading for English class and help her choose the best ones. Amelia was long gone, setting off to the nearest bookstore after you both chose some suitable options. Busy crafting a response to your mother about what Amelia would like for her birthday, you barely noticed the man approaching your booth until he was sliding into the seat across from you.

Your phone practically slipped from your fingers as you made eye contact with your father. Two times in a week really was a record for the two of you, seeing as you’ve barely spoken twice in the past five years. “Can I help you?” you sneered, shocked and disgusted this man had the nerve to approach you again.

 “It’s Colton’s birthday next week, you really should get your little brother a gift,” his smug voice graced your ears.

 “Why would I buy a gift for someone I’ve never even met?” confused as to why he was even approaching you about something so absurd.

 “He’s your sibling, that’s what siblings do,” his voice gruff and matter of fact. His expression was neutral, like he saw no problem in approaching his estranged daughter like they were pals.

 “Siblings by blood sure, but we have no relationship whatsoever,” your patience growing thinner by the second.

 “I didn’t raise you to be disrespectful to your family,” he replied shortly. You snorted at his statement, was this man on drugs?

 “All due respect Admiral, you didn’t raise me at all. Your family is not my family, you made that very clear to me numerous times.” Who the hell did this man think he is?

 “I helped bring you into this world, and this is how you treat me?” he feigned insult at your response.

 “You did little else after getting my mother pregnant, I don’t owe you a damn thing. Now if you’re done with whatever twisted game you’re playing here, this conversation is over,” slamming your hand on the table to show him you weren’t kidding around.

 “You are not who I thought you were,” he commented as he slid out of the booth and stood from the table.

 “That’s because you have no idea who I am, maybe you would if you stuck around to raise me,” you felt your cheeks growing hot as tears pricked at the corner of your eyes. You weren’t sure what was making you emotional, whether it was anger or annoyance at the conversation with the man who didn’t deserve to be in your presence. Cyclone stared at you for a moment, as if he was inspecting you. Was this how he intimidated the new Top Gun candidates? Without another word, he turned around and marched out of the bar.

 Unbeknownst to you, Rooster had come into the bar and witnessed the exchange with your father. He felt rage bubbling up inside himself as he saw you wiping tears from your eyes. You were shaken from your thoughts when you heard Rooster clear his throat beside you. Glancing up at the tall aviator, you offered a weak excuse for a smile.

 “Are you alright?” his voice soft as he took in your shaken appearance.

 “You know Bradley, I’ve had better days,” wiping the final remnants of tears from your cheeks. Bradley was shocked that you called him by his actual name, not engaging in your usual flirtatious exchange of his call sign and other nicknames. He nodded silently, drinking in your appearance. He hadn’t seen you like this before, vulnerable in this way.

 “Let’s get out of here,” he offered you his hand, pulling you from the booth. Normally, you wouldn’t go with him, knowing you shouldn’t spend time alone with the gorgeous pilot you were trying to resist. Life wasn’t operating normally for you right now, so you accepted his hand, letting him lead the way.

 That’s how you found yourself sitting on the beach, watching the waves with Bradley Bradshaw. The two of you chatting about the best ice cream flavors, the best baseball team in California, the worst season of Grey’s Anatomy, and a whole laundry list of things you were learning about him. Learning that he watched Grey’s Anatomy with his mom when she got sick, continuing to watch it after she passed. You told him about the first time you visited Chicago as a child; terrified that the riverboat you were on was going to crash into the bridge, not realizing that the bridge would lift up to allow boats passage. Laughing at each other’s stories and sharing  memories, you found yourself enjoying the conversation with him. He wasn’t as cocky as you first assumed he was.

 You noticed something about Bradley that you never expected, he had this way of making you comfortable. He made you feel safe with him, you had never expected to feel these things with someone you barely knew. Yet he made all your problems melt away. Normally, that conversation with your dad would send you crying to your mother or venting to your therapist. But somehow, you found yourself content to watch the waves crash over each other. Colliding then dissipating. Just like your problems.

 “That was my dad, Cyclone,” your voice quiet as you stared ahead watching the seagulls overhead. You felt you owed him some form of explanation. He had been surprisingly vulnerable with you about the loss of his mother, he made you want to be vulnerable too.

 “I know,”  his voice soft and soothing. How you could get used to that voice, he was so comforting. You didn’t expect him to be somewhat sensitive. Silence filled the air as the two of you quietly enjoyed each other’s company. “He’s a complete asshole by the way,” Rooster commented out of nowhere.

 Smiling quietly to yourself, you stifled a laugh. “Isn’t he your boss?”

 “Doesn’t matter, anyone who makes you cry is a total dick,” he stated casually, as if was common knowledge.

 “Thank you,” you heart beaming as you bumped your shoulder against his. He let out a chuckle as he gave your shoulder a gentle shove. You could get used to that laugh.

 Despite the alarm bells ringing in your head signaling that you were getting too close to this man, you found yourself chatting with him well into the evening. Chatting about what got him into flying and with that, the loss of his father at such a young age. His story pulled on your heartstrings; Bradley lost his father, a man who cared for him deeply, far too soon. Yet you found yourself with a father in the same dangerous profession who didn’t give a damn about you. After chatting about his parents, you told him about your mom and your undying love for the woman who sacrificed everything for you.

 Conversation about your mom naturally turned into conversation about Penny, your second mother. Bradley listened contently as you told stories about your mother and Penny, the two were thick as thieves back in the day. Finding your stomach growling as you told him about what got you into teaching, you glanced at your phone and realized you had been talking for four hours.

 “Thanks for today Bradley, I really needed a friend,” offering him a genuine smile. He returned your smile with one that set your soul on fire. Your mind was screaming RUN because you knew this man was trouble. However your heart was telling you to give in to the gorgeous navy man.

 “I’ll always be around whenever you need a friend,” he replied while standing from the sand and offering you his hand. “Now this friend needs some food, let’s go grab a bite.” Despite your better judgement, you agreed, content to spend more time with your new friend. If this is who Bradley Bradshaw truly was, you could get used to this.

 Little did you know Penny and Maverick watched the two of you walk away into the sunset along the beach from the windows of the Hard Deck. The scene in front of them only further convincing them that the two of you were meant to be. Penny realizing she had far more scheming to do if she was going to get the two of you together.

 ---------------

 “Tash, I am so screwed,” letting out an exasperated sigh as you buried your head in your hands and sunk further on the couch. Natasha laughed at your frazzled demeanor. Out of all the different experiences the two of you had during your year of friendship, this was the first time she had seen you so out of sorts over a man.

 “Why is that exactly?” Natasha questioned while sipping her red wine. Wine night between you girls had turned into whine about Rooster night. The two of you had been “friends” for just over a week and he was getting harder to resist. Between the walks home from your late shifts at the bar that he insisted on because your car was officially dead or the evening he taught you how to play pool with his firm body pressed against yours as he helped you line up shot after shot…you wanted him badly. Yet your head and heart, and maybe some other parts, were saying different things, you were in a total tailspin.

 “You’ve seen the man, he’s….he’s,” you hesitated, choosing your words carefully. “He’s perfect in his own way.”

 “I mean, I work with him and he’s basically my brother, so we see different things when we look at him. But if he’s perfect to you, why don’t you go for it?” she questioned as you poured yourself more Rosé. That was the true dilemma.

 “I’m so scared, this is the most terrified I have ever been of a relationship. What if we fall in love and he leaves me because god knows, Top Gun comes first,” pausing to take a large gulp of your wine. “It took my mom a really long time to recover from my dad leaving her, I feel like a small piece of her is still broken. Watching that, well, that’s why I told myself to never fall for a man in the navy.”

 “Y/N, I hear where you’re coming from. You’ve been hurt badly by someone in the Navy, but look at how great your friendship is with Rooster. What if that friendship transformed into the best relationship of your life? What if he’s your person? The one who you’re meant to marry and start a family with?” Natasha made a very convincing point. You wanted to let your heart go there, but something was holding you back. The same thing that has protected you your whole life.

 “What if he leaves me for a different posting? Or cheats on me with one of the girls obsessed with aviators? Or gets a few years in and decides I’m boring?”

 “Look, your dad didn’t leave your mom because she wasn’t good enough. It was your dad, he was a selfish egotistical asshole. Rooster isn’t like that, he is a good man and he was raised to respect women,” Natasha wrapped an arm around your shoulder, trying to offer you some semblance of comfort. “I don’t think your mom would want you to lose out on your happiness because of what happened to her.”

 You were quiet for a long while, Natasha might have a point there. Your mom never once told you to stay away from any men in the navy. In fact she went on to date someone in the military, although it didn’t end up working out. “What if I’m not ready…something is still holding me back.”

 “That’s okay, nobody said you have to be ready to start dating Rooster tomorrow. Just give him a chance sometime, I know he’s willing to wait for you to let your guard down. God, he talks about you like you hung the sun. Frankly, you’re all we hear about from him. He’ll wait until you’re ready,” giving you a squeeze before leaning forward to grab the remote off the coffee table.

 “Thanks Tash,” you said with a smile as she pressed play on the romcom the two of you were in the middle of. Natasha knew you needed some time to think and expected you were exhausted enough from contemplating breaking your number one relationship rule. There was definitely a lot you needed to consider when it came to Bradley, you just weren’t sure when you would have those answers. Little did you know, Natasha might be giving you a little push sooner than you thought.

 -------------

 Natasha Fucking Trace, the friend you loved dearly…well right now you wanted to kick her ass. You received a phone call this morning from an unknown number, your head was pounding from all the wine last night as you answered. Turns out it was Natasha calling from Bob’s phone because she so conveniently left her phone on your couch last night. Now she was insisting that you brought your phone to the base because she ‘needed’ it. She didn’t think it would be too much trouble for you because you lived a short 15 to 20 minute walk from the base. No, this was no coincidence, she had planned this. You just couldn’t figure out why.

 There you were, walking through the gate where the naval officers seemed to know who you were and that you were coming. Natasha must’ve told them you were coming because they didn’t even call her when you got there. You walked on the tarmac to the runway she told you to meet her on, it had been years since you’d been on the base. Your father hadn’t ever bothered to tour you, Mav offered to take you one day when you were barely 13. You had always assumed it was another thing he did to try to impress Penny, but he had always shown genuine interest in helping you. Probably because he hated your father just as much as you did.

 Rounding the corner you saw the runway, thanking the stars that you didn’t get lost and run into your least favorite aviator on the way. You saw a group of people standing by a jet, recognizing most of them from the Hard Deck, you realized it was a group of pilots you were approaching. This must be where Natasha is, you hoped. The sun was hot, and you desperately wanted to return to your air conditioned home as quickly as possible. Noticing someone from the group waving, you returned the wave. As you got closer, you recognized Bob as the one who waved you over.

 Finally meeting the group of pilots, you couldn’t help but feel short compared to the tall built aviators. Glancing around your gaze stopped on Rooster, his hair tousled, black t-shirt and flight suit hugging him in all the right ways. Before you could spend too much time staring at his beaming smile, Phoenix waved her hand right in front of your face. Sighing as she pulled you out of your Rooster fueled daydream, you dug in the pocket of your shorts for her phone.

 “Hey, thanks for bring this Y/N,” she emphasized your name loudly to get the attention of the others. Most of the pilots gazed your way, but you were only concerned about one pilot’s eyes on yours. Shaking your head, you gave Natasha an irritated smile.

 “I’m surprised that you forgot it,” you pressed. You knew this was part of an elaborate scheme  and you wanted her to know you were onto her.

 “Y/N, Phoenix was telling us you’ve never been in a jet before. How is that even possible?” Rooster questioned from across the small circle of people. Your eyes widened at his question. There was no way he could know that if someone hadn’t blabbed. Shooting a glare at Phoenix who averted her gaze to Coyote who was questioning how you grew up so close to the base and have never been in a jet.

 “Never had the opportunity I guess,” you shrugged off the attention from the group surrounding you. Just as the group was scoffing at your pathetic excuse, Jake cleared his throat while shoving Bob to the side, so he could be in your eyeline.

 “I could take you for a ride sometime,” Jake smirked at you. It took all your willpower not to laugh, groan in disgust, and roll your eyes at his lame attempt to hit on you. This guy never learns.

 “You know, with what I’ve heard about your record in dogfighting I think I’ll pass,” sarcasm dripping from your voice as the group broke out into laughter.

 As some of the guys were giving Jake a hard time Natasha leaned over and whispered, “Nice burn.”

 “I wonder where they all learned I’ve never been in a jet before,” you retorted with a knowing look in your eyes.

 “I have no Idea,” she attempted to brush you off. Before you could question her further, Rooster’s voice got your attention.

 “If you’re looking for someone who’s good at dogfighting and won’t crash, I can take you,” Rooster quipped, smirking at you and also Jake. You thought about the offer for a moment, you were developing a friendship with Bradley, but at the same time you were starting to feel things for him that scared you. With the way he looked in a flight suit, you couldn’t trust yourself to be alone with him and not be tempted to throw yourself at him.

 “Oh no, that’s okay. You guys are probably busy,” you said, trying to play it cool.

 “Not really, I don’t have anything else on for the day,” Rooster responded eagerly.

 “Seriously, it’s okay. I’ve gotta get home and get…groceries,” you lied. You noticed Rooster looked disappointed, but accepted your answer none the less. Damn him for being so respectful of you, it made you like him even more. He was more trouble than you initially thought.

 As the group drifted to other conversation, you attempted to follow Fanboy’s story about a new training exercise they were teaching the rookies. Apparently one rookie almost threw up on himself. You couldn’t seem to understand the manoeuvre Fanboy was describing, which made sense seeing as you knew barely anything about flying.

 You noticed something over Fanboy’s shoulder. Someone to be more exact, and they were coming your way. Panic set into your bones as you recognized the scowl on the face of your father marching like a drill sergeant as he approached the group. There was no way you could escape the group quickly enough to avoid him. You had to think of a plan to get out of there before you were forced into another conversation with the man you despised.

 Interrupting Fanboy’s story completely, “actually Rooster, I will go on that ride.” Quickly crossing the group you grabbed his arm and started yanking him away from everyone. “Now,” you pleaded. Your eyes meeting his in desperation, begging him to realize the situation you were in. He continued to stare at you as you attempted to pull him away quickly. His head turning slightly, eyes widening as he picked up the pace practically dragging you away from the group. He must’ve understood every unspoken signal you were sending him.

 The two of you narrowly escaped the wrath of your father as you both twisted and turned around multiple jets. “Thanks for getting me out of there,” your voice full of relief as you kept pace with the tall aviator.

 “Anytime you need a quick getaway, I’m your man,” he smiled as his hand landed on your lower back sending tingles up your spine. You held his gaze for a moment, tempted to melt into his arms. Buzzing snapped you out of your trance, jumping before you realized it was your phone. Rooster chuckled softly as you pulled the device from your pocket. You saw a text from Penny about coming over for a special dinner tomorrow. Rooster stopped, allowing you a moment to process whatever you were reading. “Anything important?” he asked, breaking the silence.

 Shoving the phone back into your pocket, “Nope, nothing,” you smiled, taking the arm he was holding out for you. “Now Bradley, you must take all the girls for a ride in your jet,” you teased, bumping your hip against his as the two of you resumed your walk.

 “Only the special ones,” he fired back. You felt your cheeks get warmer as he winked at you. “In all seriousness, I’ve never taken anyone for a ride in my plane. Although my dad did take my mom for a ride once, she told it was one of her favorite memories about him.”

 You listened as he continued on with his story about his parents, even after stopping in front of the jet with his name painted on the side. You were memorized about the way he spoke of his parents with such love. The stress of your father, annoyance with Natasha, and the text from Penny all long forgotten as you got lost in the pilots eyes. You wanted something like they had, such a pure love. For a moment as Rooster was helping you with your helmet you thought he might kiss you, did you want him to kiss you? It was getting harder and harder to deny your feelings.

  As Bradley helped prepare you for your first ride in a jet, you had no idea that this would not be your only ride in a plane with the handsome pilot. In fact, this would be your first ride of many with Bradley Bradshaw. A special girl you were indeed.

#bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw imagines #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw #top gun maverick #top gun imagines #rooster imagine #rooster #rooster bradshaw #miles teller #natasha phoenix trace

[mrswinnie04]

Hey I'm new to J2 tinhatting and looked on your blog and noticed you're fairly new to it too. I'm like really new to it like a week lol. Do you ever have doubts about them and say to yourself this is just wishful thinking? I only say this because I've RPF before and it never ends well but I can say their relationship is quite unique to others. Like I'm also trying to look at it in a logical way, and maybe they are just like brothers, the existence of their kids also complicates things too, etc. What are you thoughts?

Hello Anon!

First off, welcome to the SPN and J2 Tinhatter Community! I think it's super cool that you found my blog and are interested in some of my thoughts :)) so, thank you for your question!

You know, this is such a good question and I completely understand where you are coming from. As a blogger, who is only 4 months into being in this community, your question is something I have asked myself constantly.

In the beginning, I struggled with constantly needing solid proof to quench the doubts in my mind of J2's relationship. Even to this day there are times where I find myself questioning my solid belief in J2's romantic relationship. I think this is because I come from a family that is so demanding of "solid" proof. My mother is an opinionated attorney and my father is a man who doesn't believe in things until he sees it with his own eyes. So, for you anon, and anyone out there who wants to believe in J2 but struggles with doubt, I understand. I have done it too.

During this past summer, when I first entered the tinhatter community, I was consumed by the need to search high-and-low for blogs that did deep analysis on J2's relationship or did Proofs of their romantic connection. I did this because, even though I believed in them, a part of me was so used to needing to have proof to believe in something. I also received a lot of hate from a certain part of SPN's fandom as well. A lot of those people tried to tell me I was "stupid" or that I was "delusional" for believing in something that wasn't real because there was no actual "proof".

In simpler terms, a lot of people around me wanted me to be doubtful. So I was.

Nevertheless, it is my strong belief that someone is drawn to the tinhatter community for a specific reason: you see the connection between Jared and Jensen.

It is true, to some extent, that one reads J2 content or is drawn to tinhatter content because you have noticed things about J2. You notice the looks. The touches. The chemistry and connection.

This idea alone is what kept me believing, because even though so many people wanted me to doubt J2, I knew I was drawn to tinhatter content/the community because I saw something and felt something about J2 that went beyond brotherhood.

As these past four months as a tinhatter has progressed, one of my favorite bloggers has constantly encouraged and supported me in my journey with J2. @brookesallow is such a wonderful writer and person. Their content is always insightful, accurate, and encouraging. Anon, or for anyone interested, I always recommend looking at @brookesallow because their content has kept me believing in J2. This blogger always posts proofs, theories, and beliefs. They are kind and very welcoming, so definitely check them out! I feel that their blog posts do a great job of explaining J2's situation with their wives, kids, and their own romantic connection.

In the beginning, I doubted J2 a lot (even though I really wanted to believe). However, @brookesallow and so many other amazing bloggers have done an amazing job of showing me that I can believe in J2's love and not feel shame for it.

Bearding is such a big thing in Hollywood. So many actors and actresses are pressured by the industry to hide the fact that they are apart of the LGBTQIA+ community. This is beyond tragic and sad. Can you imagine how many actors and actresses we love and adore are forced to be away from the people they love?

As I've done more research, it's clear that there have been plenty of famous actors who have been married + with kids who were actually gay. But because of the movie industry and PR, they were forced to pretend they were heterosexual.

This fact has made me believe in J2 a lot more.

But I want to reiterate my previous idea that those who are drawn to J2 tinhatter content are here for a reason: they believe in something.

In the beginning, I knew I saw something about J2 that went beyond more than brotherhood/friendship. There was just something about their relationship that was infinite and beautiful. And even though I doubted them at first, what kept me believing (and continuing to believe) is the fact that I can see there is just such a powerful and timeless connection between them.

Jared and Jensen are soulmates. You can see it in the way they look at each other; act around each other; touch each other; and love each other. Jensen's first choice will always be Jared. And Jared's first choice will always be Jensen.

So, even though J2 have wives (beards) + kids, it is clear (to me) that they are together. That they love each other, more than just as friends.

I think it is natural to doubt J2 at times. We live a society that demands "proof" but as the famous movie Scarface said:

"The eyes, chico, they never lie."

Looking at the photos below, the way J2 looks at each other is enough for me to believe. In these past four months, as I've grown as a blogger and tinhatter, I know I believe in J2's relationship. There is something about them that is deeper. Something about their relationship that doesn't feel like simple "brotherhood friendship".

Jensen once said that he'd take a bullet for Jared in an interview.

Jensen once went down fighting in a bar brawl for Jared.

J2 would do anything for each other, and I don't think there is anyone I've ever met that would do that for a mere friend. Unconditional love like that stems from a type of love that goes so much deeper than friendship. To say that you would "take a bullet" for someone is serious. It would mean that you feel that, if that person were threatened, that your life (and anything you value in continuing to live) wouldn't matter in that second---you would give that all up for that person, regardless of your own happiness, because that's how much that other person means to you.

That kind of love is special.

But there are so many instances I can think of between J2 that have convinced me of their love. So many that there isn't a enough space here for me to share, but I definitely recommend @brookesallow. Their blog is amazing and so informative!

Anyway, I'm sorry I went on a rant.

Anon, I just want to say that I understand the way you feel. I have been there. The point of this post isn't to force you to believe me or anything. I think discovering your own confidence and belief in J2 (without anyone forcing you) is what makes the tinhatter journey beautiful. As these past four months as a blogger have progressed, I have found so much joy in finding my own confidence in J2 myself. By doing this, I have opened my heart to the fact that I don't need a "confession" to believe in them. I can believe in their love because I can see it. I can feel it.

I believe in it because I believe in J2.

It is my hope, anon, that you have a wonderful and welcoming experience into the tinhatter community! I hope you have a wonderful journey and please ask me if you have anymore questions!

Farewell! AND THANK YOU AGAIN for your question. I'm really honored and grateful for your curiosity.

ENJOY THESE PHOTOS BELOW OF J2 IN LOVE :))

#supernatural #j2 tinhat #dean winchester #j2 #jensen ackles #jared and jensen #jared padalecki #spnfan #spnfandom #j2 love #j2 soulmates #j2 appreciation post #the epic love story of jensen and jared #jensen loves jared #jared loves jensen #jensen and jared #moose and squirrel #jensen x jared #jared x jensen #bearding #love #the epic love story of sam and dean

[ladypiscesmoon]

Hello everybody, hope you are all well on this Monday! We’ve got rain over here so Summer is far away at the moment. Ever since I saw the film Call me by your name, I’ve been reading for Timothée Chalamet and Armie Hammer. Their bond is very strong an special. It’s no surprise my first reading here will be a reading for Armie, ft. Timmy. You can say I’m a Charmie, so any hate for the boys will not be tolerated on my page. Remember, all readings are alleged and for entertainment purposes only. The reading was done on 24 July

Reading Armie, 24 July 2023

Tarot cards:

King of cups (devoted, balanced, intuitive, compassionate, supportive, empath) Someone very devoted to Armie is keeping him balanced. A very supportive male has his back, I think this is Timmy

9 of pentacles (abundance, luxury, self-sufficiency, self-worth) His finances are looking better, with that his self-worth will increase, he wants to do something independent, something useful

King of swords ambitious, fast-thinking, success driven, assertive, focused) He’s impatient, ready for action, ready to focus on work and something useful. Feeling restless (hence the head shaving, maybe?) Sitting around is not good for him.

The chariot (action, success, movement, forwards, control, willpower, determination opposing forces, working towards a goal) Again: wants to move forwards, wants to be working towards a goal. Also something together with Tim I hear, so maybe a project together of some kind

Deck: Kipper

Healthy man(13) (a younger man, good news, also with money matters) Better times are coming for him, also financially. A good period for their relationship, and also jobs wise. All in all better than before.

Great fortune(26) (good luck, new opportunities, in jobs, improvement in relationship) I also pick up Tim doing something for Armie, or doing something with him. Again I hear: together.

Courtship (4) (getting together, seducing) They’re going away together like a weekend or a short trip, they want to meet up, make plans, lots of cuddles - and more -

Main male(1) (important male in Armie’s life) the most important male in Armie’s life is Timmy (aside from his son)

Deck: Fairytale Lenormand

House: with house I feel there is a new house on the horizon for Armiebig enough for the children also now he’s got partial custody. I also pick up he and Tim will try to have a place together but how that will play out with the children is something they have to think about

Birds: minor hiccups, little fights, discussions, but they will figure it out. Plus they like banter and teasing that’s just the way they are together

Stork: something new beginning. In a way Armie starts over again.

Bouquet: lots of happiness. I feel this will be an easier period for Armie although he gets restless. He wants to move things along. He still has lots to figure out.

Deck: Chakra wisdom oracle cards:

Service (sacral chakra) For me: he’s someone always helping, serving, taking care of someone and being there for other people. He’s got to learn to do things for himself too, and learn that he can enjoy that

Destiny (crown chakra) What do yóu want? Take a risk form your own destiny. Now that you have found true love, go for it, together you’re stronger. It’s complicated but so much worth it.

Perception(heart chakra) The heart knows what the eyes can not see. The past is the past, let it be. Upwards and onwards. Allow yourself to feel good. He feels a bit sad at times, but only he can do something about it. Transformation is in the heart. What needs ending in your life? Focus on that. The experience will be richer if you allow it.

Impasse(sacral chakra) he’s a bit blocked, he doesn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. He’s got to allow himself to heal and to feel loved. Refocus, change direction if necessary. It will be okay in the end.

How are Armie and Timmy doing together (small check-in)

Deck: True love oracle

Connection: working on their connection, relationship

Inner peace: loving yourself benefits your relationship

Sexuality: sexuality blossoms in an atmosphere of trust and intimacy

Yin and Yang: love and friendship. Strive for harmony and balance, through change, reflection and growth.

Maturity: be responsible for your own happiness

Reparenting yourself: free yourself from the past, you are more able to give and receive love in the present

Theirs is still a new relationship (I think they’ve been together in the past, but it wasn’t exclusive until recently. So, they still have to figure out a lot and learn a lot about how to be a couple. Sometimes that’s still a challenge with everything happening around them. But they’re getting better at it.

Deck: love oracle deck

Heart with a key: opening their heart, welcoming love. ‘The one’ realising what he’s got.

Paradise: finding a paradise like situation, happiness, joy, playfulness, enjoying what they have together. After a more difficult time (being apart physically was really hard for Tim) moving forward and being playful with each other/ happy, ‘we against the world.

Stabbed in the back: they had their challenges and difficulties while Armie was away (Caymans, holiday) Tim felt betrayed and blindsided by the pictures with Lisa although he had absolute no right after the PR sham with Kylie, but still he was hurt.

Passion: Insane chemistry, having fun, liking each other equally, sexual thoughts, I think they have plans to meet up soon ( just after the reading Timmy left NY and headed to LA)

How does Timmy feel about Armie

Same deck: love oracle

Passion: see what I wrote above ☺️

Healing heart: healing from heartbreak. He’s slowly letting go, wants to go back to what they had before Armie went on his extended trip, because that was really good. It happened, let it go.

Cassette: replaying events over in his head, he’s got to let go of the past and also still has a little trouble of trusting Armie completely, but he gets better at it and it will be okay in the end.

Stabbed in the back: he really felt betrayed, but was a bit harsh, knowing what he himself has to do for his work and his reputation, so it wasn’t really fair to Armie.

He’ll find the way back, he always does. I feel him being a bit anxious again, also about work. He very much wants to be with Armie and cuddle. Find some peace and some rest. The arguments they have are meaningless and petty if you look at their story together, but like I said I think they like the banter too.

Here ends the reading, I hope you enjoyed and please don’t hesitate to ask me any question about it!

*Alleged For Entertainment Purposes Only

#celebrity tarot #armie hammer #timothee chamalet #intuitive tarot reading #celeb tarot

[bildad-the-shuhite-official]

Ineffable Husbands Human AU- Fic recommendations

The Art of Human Nature by IneffableDoll T, 6k, human au, ineffable wives, meet-cute, artist!crowley Crowley is a painter who has only ever had an eye for nature. That is, until a client named Aziraphale commissions her for a painting to boost her self-confidence, and Crowley discovers that her client is as beautiful as the Earth itself. Then she goes and catches feelings, because she’s a disaster.

Raspberry Ripple by FeralTuxedo T, 9k, human au, meet-cute, university, professor crowley, ice cream man aziraphale, first date, fluff Every afternoon, a man in a velvet waistcoat sits on the bench by the stone fountain and eats ice cream. Every afternoon, Crowley watches him from his office window. One day, he’ll pluck up the courage to talk to him.

Everything I've Had by AppleSeeds M, 12k, human AU, chronic illness, chronic pain, hurt/comfort, bathing/washing, domestic fluff, childhood friends to lovers After developing a chronic illness that leaves him unable to live alone, Crowley moves back home to London where he reunites with his childhood best friend Aziraphale. Aziraphale helps to take care of Crowley and keeps him company while he's in bed, bringing them closer together and reigniting old feelings.

Easy by mozbee M, 18k, human au, snowed in, one night stand, insecure aziraphale, minor injuries, minor fatshaming While driving to his father's funeral, Aziraphale stops for the night at an inn, indulges in a rather whirlwind sexual encounter, and plans to take his leave very early the next morning. And then the snowstorm hits.And then the snowstorm hits.

How My Light is Spent by Azira_Amane E, 19k, blind!crowley, disability, coffee shop au, happy ending, hook ups, fluff, body worship, chubby aziraphale Navigating the dating world when you can't see it can be tricky. For Crowley, that was never a problem; he's usually too busy to contemplate a relationship. The same goes for Aziraphale, though he doesn't have Crowley's excuse - he just isn't really all that much into people as a whole. One chance meeting on Crowley's usual route home changes all that.

Anthony of Arcadia by Azira_Amane E, 19k, 19th century, human AU, farmer!Crowley, scholar!Aziraphale, tadfield, kidfic, disability, chronic pain Anthony Crowley is a farm owner with an old injury, a prickly temper, and a young new farmhand to raise alongside his flock. Ezra Fell is a former Oxford scholar who retired far sooner than he would have liked, finding himself in the idyllic village of Taddesfild. After a tense first meeting, they soon discover they are more alike than different. An English countryside AU, set very loosely somewhere around the 1800s.

Along the Changing Tide by NaroMoreau E, 53k, Human AU, summer romance, a hell lot of smut, fluff, night walks Aziraphale and Crowley meet at Anathema's beach house as guests for the summer. Neither of them think they're ready for a relationship but when they find themselves sharing a room, things will get complicated. A getting together, summer romance.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #ineffable wives #aziraphale #aziracrow #crowley #good omens fanfiction #good omens fic recs